


It Might Have Been

by parkerxheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Completed, Crying, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flash is a dick, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I killed May, Lots of Crying, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Minor Character Death, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Parent Death, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Peter Parker, Sorry Peter cries so much but you can't really blame him, Temporary guardianship, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Cries, Tony Stark Has A Heart, services, well aunt death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerxheart/pseuds/parkerxheart
Summary: He closed the distance between him and Peter, knelt down in front of the trembling teenager, and without anything further, tugged Peter forward so he collapsed into his arms.Peter had no idea how much you could cry in an hour, but he felt like he maxed out. Yet, his sobbing started up once more and his eyes started to sting from the insane amount of tears. Tony tightly enclosed his arms around Peter’s figure with an arm around his shoulders and a hand against the back of Peter’s head, entangled in his curls.ORPeter's life changed forever with a phone call, but lucky for him he has Tony Stark to help him mend his broken self.





	1. Who Can Say For Certain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call that turned Peter's life upside down forever.

One moment, Peter was on the couch, eyelids heavy and trying not to fall asleep waiting, then the next he was asleep, being awoken to the deafening ringtone from his phone next to his ear. Heightened senses aside, that ringtone could have woken a Snorlax.

Peter blinked sleep out of his eyes and groped around the couch for his phone, barely keeping his eyes open.

“Hello?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Is this Peter Parker?” said a voice that was unfamiliar with Peter.

“Yes,” he said cautiously, tiredness slipping away.

“I am very sorry to inform you, but your aunt, May Parker, was in a devastating car accident,” the voice said, and Peter sat bolt upright, stomach flipping over, suddenly not tired anymore.

“Wha- is she okay?” Peter said, jumping from the couch and throwing on a jacket.

“She is in critical condition at your local hospital,” the voice said.

The thought of putting shoes on didn’t cross Peter’s mind until after he started sprinting down the streets of Queens with just sock-clad feet, jeans, a t-shirt, and a bomber jacket. “I’m on my way,” Peter said and ended the call.

Peter received a couple of funny looks from civilians as he Olympic Sprinted towards the hospital. His hair bounced about atop his head in tight ringlets.

He rushed into the hospital once he arrived but didn’t stop sprinting until he reached the hallway where he encountered a woman dressed in white. Her head snapped up at the sound of Peter’s heavy footsteps and she immediately stood in his way, holding her arm out against Peter’s shoulder.

“Whoa, honey, where are you going?” she said, sweetly but firmly.

Peter’s lungs burned from the shear amount of running he just put his body through. “My aunt. Where is May Parker?” he said, his chest heaving.

“Oh,” the lady said softly. “What is your name?”

“Peter Parker, I’m her nephew,” Peter said. “ _Where_ is she?” He made a move to push past the lady, but she kept her ground.

“Peter, dear, I know this is going to be hard to hear, but May Parker just died.”

Time seemed to stop and the only light in the world was focused on Peter and the lady. The words that were the last thing in the universe that Peter wanted to hear rang through his ears. His mind sectioned off each syllable and it played in his head like a broken record.

_May Parker just died._

“Wh-what?” Peter choked out, his head beginning to spin.

_May Parker just died._

“Honey, I’m sorry for your loss,” the lady sympathized.

“Where is she?” Peter said, tears beginning to burn his eyes.

“Room 34, but—” Peter barged past her and found the room.

_May Parker just died._

The tears in Peter’s eyes clouded his vision when he pushed open the door. A body bag was zipped down the centre around May’s lifeless form, but even through the blurring tears, Peter could see her hand through the plastic, limp and motionless.

He stepped closer, but his legs gave out and he crashed to the floor, landing hard on his knees and the palms of his hands. Peter dragged himself over to May’s body and the tears in his eyes started to spill over his lids, creating streams down his cheeks. “No,” Peter managed, giving up and slumping against the wall.

A sob ripped through him. He brought his knees into his chest, hugged them to his figure and then the waterworks emerged, and Peter lost it. The sobs were loud, deafening, and the intensity of them hurt his throat, but he couldn’t stop. He shoved his face into his hands and continued to cry.

The room was dark, as it was currently around midnight and the only light was the soft glow of the moon through the window. The table cast a shadow across the room and Peter could see each curve and lump of his aunt’s corpse, even though the bag.

 _This is my fault this is my fault this is my fault._ The four words became a mantra in Peter’s head, and it just made him cry harder.

The door opened during Peter’s breakdown and a short lady with glasses entered the room. “Peter Parker, I’m Isabel Connors, a social worker,” she said right away. “I’m very sorry about your loss.”

Peter forced himself to look up and he met Isabel’s eyes.

“Unfortunately, May was your last living relative. I’m sure you’re a very capable boy, but there is no other choice but to put you in foster care,” she said, without even a hint of sympathy in her voice.

“I-I can file- file for emanci- emancipation,” Peter said, his voice hitched with sobs.

Isabel sighed. “I’m sorry, Peter, but there is no other option.”

“Get out,” Peter snarled, pulling himself to his feet using the table May’s corpse was laying on.

“Peter, I’m afraid that is against—”

“Get out!!” Peter yelled, tears streaming down his face. “Get the fuck out!!”

“Peter, dear—”

“ **Get out!!** ”

He crumpled to the floor again and the satisfying click of the door indicated that Isabel had left him be.

 _I have to call someone,_ the reasonable section of Peter’s mind went.

With shaky hands and tears that continued to pour from his eyes, Peter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t know who to call, but he came across Ned’s number. Ned was his best friend, but the thought of his best friend seeing him in such a vulnerable condition made Peter move his thumb down his phone to find someone else. It was difficult, because he was really running out of options.

But then, _Happy._

Peter hadn’t spoke to Happy or Tony in a couple of months, not since Peter declined the spot on the Avengers and Tony gave him his suit back.

The phone was against his ear and Happy number was on the screen before Peter even knew it. The phone rang twice, then three, then four. Peter started to panic, and his breathing shallowed at the thought of being alone in this place with his aunt lying dead on a table just a couple of feet away from him when . . .

“Kid? Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Happy said, sounding bored.

“Happy,” Peter said breathlessly, tears coming to his eyes again.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

“N-no,” Peter whispered. “I’m- I’m at the hospital.”

“Are you hurt?” Happy’s voice dripped with concern. “Peter, are you okay?”

“M-my aunt, she- she got in- in an accident . . . and- and- and she- she didn’t make it,” Peter said, unsure of how much Happy got out of that since he was sobbing so hard.

“Shit, kid,” Happy said. “Just take deep breaths. We’re coming to get you. Just relax, and we’ll see you soon.”

“You’re- you’re coming?” Peter question hung in the air like molasses because the line went dead. He thought it was maybe because Happy ended the call, but when he looked at his phone, he saw that he had stupidly forgot to charge it and that the battery had died, leaving him with his nearly invisible reflection and the warmth of the tears on his face and the continuous mantra playing in his head.

A scream of anger came from Peter that quickly turned into a sob, which turned into hysterical crying once again.

He looked up at the bag on the table. “I’m sorry, May,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

Some time later, Peter’s ears perked up to the sound of voices having a back and forth banter outside the door.

“Yeah, well if you have a problem you can talk to my lawyers,” a biting voice snapped.

“I don’t care how rich you are, you can’t just—”

“You touch me again and I’ll have a suit called to me so fast it’ll make you head spin!”

“What do you know about children—”

“Leave us alone!”

An angry _hmph_ came from the woman’s voice and the door behind Peter opened and closed. He craned his neck and if he wasn’t in such a state of distress, his eyes would have popped out of his head.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, his voice ragged and strained.

Tony stood a meter away from him, dressed in a three-piece suit with a brand name that Peter didn’t recognize. His eyes drifted to May’s corpse on the table and his expression softened and a rush of horror washed over his face before he quickly masked it and turned his eyes back to Peter.

“Shit,” Tony muttered. He closed the distance between him and Peter, knelt down in front of the trembling teenager, and without anything further, tugged Peter forward so he collapsed into his arms.

Peter had no idea how much you could cry in an hour, but he felt like he maxed out. Yet, his sobbing started up once more and his eyes started to sting from the insane amount of tears. Tony tightly enclosed his arms around Peter’s figure with an arm around his shoulders and a hand against the back of Peter’s head, entangled in his curls.

They sat there for a while, Tony hugging Peter to his chest while Peter cried his eyes out into Tony’s probably very expensive suit, which would have embarrassed him red before, but he was entirely out of fucks to give.

“You . . . you _came,_ ” Peter said between sobs, gripping Tony’s shirt in clenched fists.

Tony stroked Peter’s hair gently. “Of course, I came.”

“You- you didn’t have- have to,” Peter sniveled.

“No, but I wanted to.”

Peter nodded against the man’s chest and his tears slowly came to a halt, completely dried out. Peter felt Tony carefully pull Peter away from him and they made eye contact. An expression of sadness and fear and concern came over Tony’s face. He raised his hands to rest against Peter’s cheeks and thumbed away his tear remains softly.

Tony gave the smallest smile. “Do you want to leave now?”

Peter nodded, and Tony clasped his hands around Peter’s biceps to pull him to his feet. The teenager’s legs felt shaky and wobbly, but he managed to stay upright. Tony slid his arm around Peter’s shoulders, holding him tightly against his side for support or comfort. Peter wasn’t sure which, but either one sounded damn good right about now.

The moment Tony flung the door open, they were standing in front of the social worker from earlier.

“Get out of my way,” Tony growled, staring her down.

“You can’t just leave with him!” she said with a glare. “That is against—”

“What paperwork do I have to sign?” Tony demanded in a biting tone.

Peter looked up at this. _Paperwork?_

“Let me take care of him. What paperwork do I need to sign?”

“I don’t have the full adoption papers, but I have temporary guardianship ones,” the lady said, flustered, pulling out a booklet from her clipboard.

_Temporary._

_Guardianship._

Tony snatched it out of her hands and continued to walk towards the exit. Even the exit light in neon red letters hurt Peter’s eyes. It was either a sensory overload or from all the crying. Or both.

Peter let Tony guide him out the door to the sleek black Audi parked on the curb. The darkness and fresh air were blessings. Peter exhaled a heavy breath and trudged down the stairs with Tony still holding him to his side. He’d started gently rubbing up and down some time ago.

None other than Happy stepped out of the driver’s side of the vehicle, hesitantly approaching Tony directing a worn-out teenager towards the backseat of the car.

“Fuck,” Peter heard Happy mutter under his breath. “This is bad.”

“Yeah, you think?” Tony said, within arm’s reach of the car now.

Happy reached for the passenger seat door, but Tony stopped him midway. “I’m gonna sit back here with the kid.” He shoved the booklet in his left hand at Happy. “Don’t lose that.”

Tony opened the backseat door and gently nudged Peter to sit down. Peter crawled across the black leather seat that felt like it was heated and situated himself in a comfortable position. He didn’t turn his head as Tony climbed in, shutting the door behind him. Happy slid the booklet onto the passenger seat gracefully.

“Where are we going?” Peter croaked. He felt like tears should be on his face, but his eyes were dry and stinging.

“I’m gonna take you to the Compound, is that okay?” Tony said.

Peter nodded and suddenly felt unbelievably tired. His head drooped, and he looked around for something comfortable to put it on. Happy had already started driving. The puddles on the road in late October make soothing whooshing sounds as the car’s wheels went through them.

“Peter?”

Peter turned his head towards Tony. “C’mere and put you head on my lap. You look tired.”

Peter blinked. This seemed out of Tony’s comfort zone, but he was too tired to care. He shifted and let his head fop down against Tony’s lap and shuffled around so the position he was in was comfortable. He felt Tony stroke his hair gently before darkness consumed him and he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Maybe You're Still Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter struggles to cope, but manages to smile a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Happy Halloween? I kinda wanted to a get a chapter up for Halloween but it wouldn't work with my schedule so sorry here you go instead. I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot.

Tony had no idea as to how he was supposed to pry the sleeping, exhausted teenager from his death grip on his shirt.

Peter gave a long, peaceful breath in his slumber, which almost made Tony sad, since he seemed peaceful even after the shitshow he just went through.

Happy kept sending him glances through the rear-view mirror, concerned ones and slightly amused ones. Tony looked down at Peter.

The image of the kid’s bloodshot eyes and wet face was seared into the back of his eyelids like an iron. It was _chilling_ getting the phone call from Happy at midnight. Not like he was sleeping anyways. His voice was wavering like he was about to cry as he told Tony about the conversation he had just had with Peter Parker.

“Tony, we’re here,” Happy said suddenly. Tony looked out the window and sure enough they were parked outside the entrance to the Compound.

Happy stepped outside the car, circled around the hood, and opened the door. He very briefly smirked at the sight of the kid sleeping on Tony’s lap. Tony just rolled his eyes. “How do I, uh, you know, transport him?”

Happy contained his laughter by biting his lip. “I can get Steve.”

“Very funny,” Tony said sarcastically. He slipped out from under Peter’s head, supporting it with his hands as he stepped onto the driveway. Him and Happy stood there for a couple of seconds, looking at Peter.

“I guess I’ll have to carry him,” Tony said with a sigh.

“You?” Happy said, raising an eyebrow.

Tony sighed again and stepped forward to gather Peter into his arms. Carefully, as not to wake him, Tony slid an arm under Peter’s shoulders and knees, smoothly pulling the kid into a bridal carry.

Happy’s wariness did make a lot of sense honestly. If you’d told Tony that he’d be carrying a sleeping kid that he’d just hugged and let cry on him for the last half hour, he’d have laughed in your face and probably suggested you go see Bruce to make sure your brain was working properly.

_Thought he’d weigh more,_ he mused, giving Happy a look to open the door. Peter didn’t weigh nothing, but he was pretty light.

Happy opened the door for him and he carried Peter through, walking towards the elevator.

“Where is he gonna sleep?” Happy asked, catching up to him.

Tony paused for a second but then came up with a decision that seemed okay for the time being. “He can sleep in the room I had for him when I offered him a place here,” Tony said neutrally, heading into the elevator. “Third floor, FRI,” Tony said to the AI.

“Of course, Boss,” she said, and the elevator began to lift.

Peter shuffled in Tony’s hold, so his head flopped against Tony’s shoulder and he grabbed a handful of blazer. Tony smiled fondly.

When the elevator door opened, Tony walked to Peter’s room and deposited him on the cushiony bed that was perfectly made. The room was modest; white bedsheets and pillows, a furry grey rug on the floor, white walls, a chandelier to illuminate the room, a closet, and a personal bathroom.

Tony pried Peter fingers off his blazer and positioned the kid so he looked at least somewhat comfortable on the bed. _God, I’m terrible at this,_ Tony cursed himself. He brushed the stray curls out of Peter’s face gently and Peter gave a comforted sigh. Tony shot a quick glance at the clock on the wall and it read 1:07 am.

_Damn, I was with him for a lot longer than I thought,_ Tony mused. He made sure Peter was comfortable one more time before exiting the room and heading to the kitchen, because he needed a way to occupy his time, since sleeping was not really an option at the moment.

He settled on a tall glass of water, not really feeling anything with a lot of flavour. He was certainly not hungry. Peter’s eyes and face were still quite present in his mind’s eye. Tony had downed about a third of the glass when he heard the elevator doors open. He didn’t even have to look to know who it was. The heavy footsteps but careful stride and the distance between each step made it very obvious that Steve Rogers was heading Tony’s way.

Steve slid into the seat next to Tony, turning his way. “What happened?”

“No _hi, Tony_ or _how are you, Tony?_ ” he said, running a hand down his face. "Because I'm just fucking _peachy._ Steve. Thanks for asking."

Steve gave him a look and Tony sighed.

“If I drop dead from a heart attack, blame Happy,” Tony said burying his face in his hands. Steve rested a warm, gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder. He didn’t mean it. He was internally freaking out, sure, but Peter going into foster care, with people he had no connection with, was a million times worse.

“What happened?” Steve pressed. His voice was so gentle and concerned that it was almost disgusting.

“I got a call from the Forehead of Security himself around midnight,” Tony started. “Not like I was sleeping anyway so I answered. In no universe did I expect that he would tell me that Peter Parker’s aunt just died and that the kid was in the hospital with her.”

“Oh my god,” Steve whispered.

“Yeah, so Happy came to get me and we drove there,” Tony continued, the memories so clear. “This irritating as _fuck_ woman stops me as I’m heading down to find Peter, for some reason trying to keep me away from him. I got by her and found Peter sitting on the floor, crying, next to his _aunt’s corpse_ in a fucking _body bag._ ”

Steve breathed heavy.

“The kid’s not even wearing shoes.”

Tony ran a hand down his face, shocked with the burning sensation behind his eyes indicating tears wanting to form. But no. He was _not_ crying now. Nope. That was not happening.

“Then I pulled him into a hug and he just started sobbing into my chest,” Tony said, a lump forming in his throat. He faced Steve. “So yeah, not the best night I’ve ever had.”

“Shit, Tony,” Steve said softly.

Tony wanted to tell him to watch his language but anything humorous just seemed out of place.

“But why him?” Steve asked, removing his hand from its position on Tony’s shoulder. Tony stared at him blankly. “Why did you take _this_ kid, out of all kids, here?”

“Well, this kid is fucking Spider-Man,” Tony said, feeling irritated all of a sudden.

“The one from Germany?” Steve questioned, raising his eyebrows.

This was the first time Steve and Tony had brought up Germany since Steve and the others rejoined the team and apologized. They were both still kind of sensitive about it, but there were more important things right now. Such as: Peter Parker.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Tony sighed. “It was idiotic and selfish to bring him, and I hit myself about it.”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“I brought him here because his aunt is the last living relative of his and it’s either me or foster care,” Tony said.

“That’s really selfless of you, Tony,” Steve said with a smile.

Tony just nodded.

“I think you should try to get some sleep,” Steve suggested, clapping Tony on the shoulders and carefully picking up the glass of water that Tony had completely forgotten about.

“Funny, Steve,” Tony scoffed. “Me and sleep aren’t exactly best of friends.”

“Well, now’s a good time to try to get acquainted,” Steve returned. “Good-night, Tony.”

Tony sighed for the billionth time that night. “Night, Rogers.”

He walked into the elevator and when the door opened, he went to his room and changed into a silk pajama set that Pepper had gotten him for his birthday. It was navy blue like the ocean and had a white lining. Tony pulled the soft quilt over his tired self and buried the side of his face in his one of many pillows.

He really wished Pepper was sleeping next to him. He could use someone like her right about now. Selfless, caring, sweet. All the things that his father was not.

That night he made a pact with himself.

He was never, ever going to be Howard. He would never corrupt Peter like Howard did to him.

-

Peter woke up to bright sunlight shining down on his face. He took one look at the room and sat straight up. Where the hell was he? His breathing shallowed. What happened last night?

Oh.

Right.

He’d fallen asleep on Tony’s lap. Embarrassment washed over him, but then he remembered that it was Tony who had offered to be a human pillow for Peter.

The bed he was laying in was ungodly soft.

How’d he get here? He didn’t remember waking up _oh my god._

_Tony had carried him to bed._

Peter buried his face into his hands, suddenly wanting to cry. All the memories of last night came rushing back, crowding in his brain and giving him a headache. He wasn’t sure if he was finished processing what happened, but something was for certain.

_May Parker just died._

His mind told him that fact in the voice of the woman who’d stopped him, who’d told him that his aunt didn’t make it, who’s pinched voice and bright pink lipstick made Peter almost want to throw up when he thought of it.

_Oh, fuck is pink lipstick going to become a trigger for me now?_

It was supposed to be funny.

It wasn’t.

Hot tears slipped from his eyes.

“Mr. Parker, you are in distress,” FRIDAY’s voice suddenly piped up, making Peter jump in his seat.

“Jesus,” he muttered, sniveled, and wiped away the tears rolling down his cheeks with his sleeves.

“Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY asked, her voice neutral as usual.

“I’ve already disturbed him enough,” Peter sniffed. The tears that were pooled in his eyes spilled over.

“I’m sure that he wouldn’t mind,” FRIDAY said.

“I’m okay,” Peter insisted, pulling the blankets back over him. That was the biggest lie he’d ever told.

No, he was _not_ okay. He was as far from being okay as one could be.

He saw this Pinterest post one time stating that the top 3 most common lies were _I’m out of gum, I’m over my crush,_ and _I’m okay._

It was honestly the most relatable thing ever.

He wondered how many people had told him that they were okay when they weren’t.

More tears came when he thought of May. After Ben died, she didn’t know this, but the heightened senses combined with insomnia allowed Peter to hear her sobs every passing night. She’d always push away her needs and help Peter, since the loss really did hit him hard. She’d say she was okay.

Peter lay on his side with his cheek smushed into the comfiest pillow he’d ever felt. Tears continued to fall, sliding over the bridge of his nose and running into his hairline. He felt like he should wipe them away, but he also felt completely drained, like a leech had come and sucked away all of his energy.

Some time later, the door opened and Tony was quickly sitting on the edge of Peter’s bed. “Hey, kid,” he said.

“Hi,” Peter sniveled.

“So, I know this is kind of early, but the social worker just called me about . . .” he winced, “the funeral arrangements.”

“Oh,” Peter said softly. “Right.”

“Do you want to help me?” Tony asked, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine.”

“I’d- I’d prefer not to,” Peter whispered, voice breaking, feeling awfully like he was betraying his aunt. But the thought of making arrangements to her funeral just hours after she died made Peter want to throw up. Instead, tears came to his eyes and quickly spilled over.

“Hey,” Tony said gently, drawing Peter into his chest. “It’s okay.”

Peter sniffled and nodded against his chest. He was crying in front of Tony for the second time in 24 hours, but for some reason, he didn’t care, because Tony was here. Someone who didn’t want to ship him off or put him in foster care. Someone he could trust and was there for him.

Things went on like this for a couple of days. Tony brought him food, which he barely even touched, and gave him comforting hugs, but Peter stayed in bed most of the time. The weight of his aunt’s death hung heavy on his shoulders and he couldn’t get it off, like it was pinning him to his bed.

A couple of days past his aunt’s death, Peter heard the door open right after he had just woken up and tears were running down his face. He sat up and wiped away all the tears he could. His eyes came across Tony standing in the doorway in the most casual outfit Peter had ever seen him wear. Soft looking sweatpants and an AC/DC t-shirt and a grey hoodie covered his figure.

“Pete?” he said gently.

“H-hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said softly.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, it’s okay.”

Tony crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of Peter’s bed. The section shrunk down when he sat. He looked like he wanted to say something for a moment the thought must have decided to take a hike.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter squeaked. Tony turned his head. “Can I- can I have a hug?”

Tony nodded and enveloped Peter in his arms. Peter’s head splatted against the billionaire’s chest and he wrapped his arms around Tony’s middle. Tony rested his chin atop Peter’s head and rubbed up and down on his back slowly.

“How’d you sleep?” Tony asked.

“Alright,” Peter responded. “I, um, never thanked you for carrying me to bed that . . . that night.”

Tony patted Peter’s back. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Peter gave a long, relaxed sigh.

“I would ask what’s troubling you, but . . .” Tony trailed off. He pulled Peter away from him and held his cheeks in his hands at arm’s length, gently, barely even touching. “So, just so you know, I’m going to be your temporary guardian for a while.”

The only things that Peter really heard in that sentence was _temporary_ and _for a while._

“Um, okay,” he said.

Tony smiled, brushed a thumb across Peter’s cheekbone, and stood up. “So, breakfast is ready. You’re going to come down and eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter muttered.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Uh huh and bears don’t shit in the woods.”

“That’s such a dad joke,” Peter snorted, then winced. Images of Ben started piling into his head. Images of Ben with May. It was bad enough to lose Richard and Mary, who were his biological parents, but losing both Ben and May too . . .

“Peter, you’ve barely eaten for three days.”

“It’s not my fault my appetite has decided to go on vacation.”

Tony sighed.

A couple seconds of awkward silence passed.

“Stand up,” Tony suddenly commanded.

Peter looked up at him, blinked, and adhered to his command. He was immediately pulled in for a hug. It was as if Tony could read his thoughts. Hugs always seemed to help him calm down, like warm water from a shower after a long day.

“I know it’s hard, kid,” Tony empathized. “But you can’t starve yourself. It’s unhealthy and I know that with the spider bite, you have to eat a lot.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Peter said.

-

About a half hour later, Peter was sitting at the table with a plate of pancakes in front of him and a bottle of maple syrup to his right.

“Did you make these?” Peter asked, stabbing a section with his fork like a butcher would do with meat and sawing it down the center.

“Yeah, is that such a surprise?” Tony said, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Dunno, I never thought of you as the cooking type,” Peter said, dowsing the pancake in maple syrup. It slowly trickled down the sides and pooled in the plate.

“Pancakes are the easiest thing,” Tony defended.

“Exactly.”

Tony rolled his eyes but smiled all the while. “Alright, eat. I have to introduce you to the team.”

Peter nearly choked on his pancake and looked up at Tony with wide eyes. “Like, the Avengers?”

_Oh my god, this kid is too precious,_ Tony thought fondly. “Yup. Do you want to, or you got a hot date or something?”

It was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, but then they widened and brightened again. “Everyone?” He didn’t wait for Tony to finish. “Even . . . even Captain America?”

Tony snorted. “Yes, Peter. Even the old Capsicle himself.”

Peter looked down at his plate, his eyes wide as saucers. If he was one of those emoji things right about now, it would be the one with the stars as eyes. Scratch that, it would be that one and the one with the blushy face.

“Idolizing the old man, are we?” Tony said, leaning on the edge of the table.

Peter’s face reddened.

“I think you got a bit of drool there,” Tony teased, deeply enjoying himself for some reason.

“Hold on, stay right there,” Peter said, taking off for the living room.

Tony’s eyes trailed the kid, wondering what he was doing, then he came back with a pillow from the couch and hurled it at Tony, landing it square in the billionaire’s chest.

“Hey!” Tony said, kicking the pillow away from his feet. “You went all the way over there just to throw a pillow at me? Are you kidding?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly throw a bottle of syrup at you,” Peter said with a smirk. “That would shatter your old, frail body.” Tony was about to retort when Peter said, “I’m starting to wonder if that pillow was even too much for you. Feeling any chest pains yet?”

Tony had to laugh at that. In one swift motion, he swept the pillow into his hands and chucked it at Peter, who easily batted it away, threw it back at Tony and hit him in the face, then sprinted towards the living room.

“Get back here you little punk,” Tony exclaimed and took off after him, taking the pillow with him.

Peter was leaping over the couch, so it was a barrier between him and Tony. When Tony tried to move around the couch, Peter went the other way.

“That’s cheap,” Tony said, right before hurling a pillow at Peter’s face.

The kid was disoriented and distracted just enough for Tony to take a leap over the couch and capture Peter in his arms. Peter shrieked with laughter and Tony realized that it was the first time he’d laughed since his aunt died. A real laugh.

Tony held Peter to his chest in a vice, chest against Peter’s back. The kid squirmed around but was laughing too hard to really do much.

“Do you forfeit?” Tony said

“No!” Peter squeaked, squirming harder.

Tony smirked and started tickling him. A shriek of laughter came from the kid, followed by less intense but still loud laughs. Peter was obviously very ticklish. “Forfeit yet?”

“Yes! Okay! Okay! Stop!”

Tony released Peter from his hold and the teenager collapsed onto the couch, his chest heaving from the intense laughter. Tony plopped down in the spot next to him, sort of winded himself.

“That wasn’t fair,” Peter said breathlessly, his head flopping to the side.

“Oh? Have I found your weakness?” Tony challenged, raising his hands and slowly moving them towards Peter.

His answer was confirmed when Peter yelped and scrambled away, sending Tony into laughter, to which Peter rolled his eyes at. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he said.

“Okay, now I take you down to meet the team,” Tony announced. “Should I tell Steve that you have t-shirts of him stashed in your underwear drawer?”

“What- that’s- Mr. Stark!” Peter sputtered.

“Wait do you actually?” Tony said, doubling over in laughter. Peter’s face went beet red. “Oh my god this is gold,” Tony said between laughs.

This was going to be _great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what are y'all doing for Halloween? I can't believe October, by favourite month, went by so darn fast. I'm having two friends over and we're watching horror movies because we're just that cool.


	3. I Feel You All Around Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets the Avengers and tries to cope with his PTSD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIII. So yeah this was a day later than I expected but bear with me. I feel like this is more of a hobby project for me, because writing about Irondad and Spiderson is so fun and I just do it whenever I get the time, but i have SCHOOL and it SUCKS but I'M WORKING WITH IT OKAYYY

To say that Peter was excited about meeting the Avengers could either be completely true or completely false, depending of if he decided to take his uncle’s advice to turn nerves into excitement or not.

His hands, curled into fists, were starting to get sweaty because _oh my god the Avengers._ Even _Captain America._

Tony had an arm slung around Peter’s shoulders, giving him little pats from time to time as the elevator travelled towards the penthouse.

“I can’t believe that he’s your idol,” Tony said with a smirk and Peter could feel a blush coming on again. “I’m offended.”

“You’re deeply enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Peter said with an eyeroll.

When the elevator doors opened, Tony led Peter into the living space. Peter’s eyes must have widened to twice their individual size.

Hawkeye. Black Widow. Falcon. Scarlet Witch. Vision. War Machine. _Captain America._

“Everyone,” Tony spoke up after clearing his throat, and heads turned his way, Clint looking up from whatever game he was playing on his tablet with Wanda peering at it from over his shoulder. “This is Peter Parker. Peter Parker, this is everyone.”

“Hi,” Peter said meekly, looking down at his socks.

War Machine was the first to close the distance and take Peter by the hand for a firm handshake. “Hey, Peter,” he greeted kindly.

“Hi, Mr. Rhodes,” Peter said.

“You can call me Rhodey,” he said with a smile.

Scarlet Witch was the next to introduce herself with a kind handshake and a sweet smile. “Wanda’s fine,” she said as Peter called her Ms. Maximoff before wandering back to the couch with Clint.

Peter just about dropped through the floor when Captain America stood from his seat to greet Peter. “Hi, Peter,” he said, patting the teenager on the shoulder.

Steve was about an entire head taller than Peter.

“Hi, Mr. Captain America sir,” Peter sputtered. Tony bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I’m- I’m- I’m Peter.”

“Just call me Steve.”

“Wha- oh- okay,” Peter managed, because oh my god first name basis with _Captain America and War Machine and Scarlet Witch._

“Clint, don’t be a loser and come say hi,” Tony called to the archer, who raised his head from his game with a bored expression.

“Yes, and let me try,” Wanda said, groping for the tablet in Clint’s hands, clearly interested in the game.

“Do you even know how to play Fortnite?” Clint asked her and Peter just about burst out laughing.

“Fortnite?” Peter snickered. “Seriously? That game vanished into thin air a long time ago.”

Clint blinked twice, and Wanda snatched the tablet from his hands.

“Sassing Katniss, huh Peter?” Tony said, nudging Peter’s side.

Wanda was taken aback by the content of the game. “What the hell is this?”

“Told you.” Clint smirked at her.

“Alright, Clint, get over here,” Tony commanded, and Clint obeyed with a subtle eyeroll. He greeted Peter with a simple “hi call me Clint” and a handshake before walking back to the couch to grab the tablet back from Wanda.

Tony announced to everyone around 7:00 that watching a movie tonight was required, which was something Peter loved to do, especially with Ned and . . . May.

And Peter really didn’t need to be reminded of her body in a body bag and the cold floor of the hospital room, thank you very much.

“I’m actually going to head to my room,” Peter said quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked, resting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He seemed to pick up on the fact that physical affection really did help ground Peter. His simple gesture did help Peter to relax a little.

“Not feeling up to it tonight,” Peter mumbled. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Peter walked across the room to the elevator and was about to head up when Tony entered and stood next to him.

“Alright, now you’re going to tell me what’s up,” Tony said firmly.

“It’s just- it’s just . . .” Peter felt tears coming on and he tried to blink them away as he punched in his floor number. “It’s- I just . . . it’s something that- that May and I would always like to do.”

Tony expression softened. “Shit, kid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

Peter’s throat started to hurt, which was something that happened when he was holding back tears, because he just couldn’t cry in front of Tony again. He bit down on his quivering lip and clenched his hands into fists.

“Peter,” Tony said softly, reaching out to rest his hands atop Peter’s shoulders. “You can cry about things like this. It’s okay to cry.”

“I just don’t understand how she can be really gone,” Peter said, tears starting to spill over his eyes. “I don’t understand. I still remember what we last talked about and what her perfume smelled like and- and- and the last movie we watched, and I just don’t know how she could really be gone!”

Peter buried his face into his hands and tried to hush his tears that didn’t want to stop.

“Come here,” Tony said, and Peter was quickly pulled into a tight hug.

Peter gritted his teeth as a sob ripped through him and wrapped his arms around Tony’s torso, pressing the side of his face into the billionaire’s chest. Tony started to rub comforting circles onto Peter’s back as tears continued to stream down the teenager’s face and seep into Tony’s shirt.

“You’re alright, kid,” Tony soothed, resting his chin in Peter’s curls.

“But- but she’s not,” Peter said, his voice breaking. Another sob came out.

Tony sighed and started to card his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

Then a sudden thought just jumped out of Peter’s mouth. “How come the elevator isn’t moving?” he said between hiccupping breaths.

“I stopped it,” Tony said.

_He stopped it so he could hug me._

“Oh, thanks,” Peter mumbled, remembering he was still holding onto Tony and let go, embarrassed. But when he let go, he desperately found himself craving the comfort again.  
  
Tony raised his hands and gently brushed away the tears on Peter’s face with his thumbs. “You feeling better now, bud?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Peter admitted.

Tony smiled and reached out to start the elevator again and Peter felt the slight vibration of the elevator’s movements under his shoes. Peter sniveled and rubbed the back of his hands along his under-eyes to remove any of the lasting tears.

When the door opened, Tony was about to step out when Peter wrapped his arms around the man in a hug. There was no moment of hesitation from Tony as he reciprocated the motion.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered “For- for everything.”

“No problem, kid,” Tony said kindly, patting Peter’s back.

-

Tony awoke that night to screams of terror coming from Peter’s room. It woke him from a surprisingly good sleep which did not happen that often, so any other time he’d be salty.  
  
But he was in no way salty as he took off for Peter’s room, flinging open the door.

The kid was tangled in a blanket and thrashing violently and screaming, “No!”

“Peter!” Tony exclaimed, rushing to his side. He placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders and shook him a little. “Kid, wake up!”

“Please, May! No!” Peter shrieked smacking at Tony’s hands.

Tony gritted his teeth and shook harder. “Peter!” he yelled.

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he flinched away, making Tony’s heart shudder, and tears streamed down his face. “Mr. Stark,” he croaked out, his chest falling and rising in rough motions. “What happened?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Tony said.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Peter whispered, curling in on himself.

“Hey,” Tony said gently, carefully pulling Peter into his arms. His head flopped against the old location of the arc reactor and his hands were clenched into fists. “It’s okay, kid.”

Peter sniveled. “It’s- it’s my fault.”

“What is?”

“May. It’s my fault.”

Tony blinked down at the teen in confusion. “What? How?”

“We were- we were going to watch a movie,” Peter whispered. “And- and we were out of popcorn and I asked her to go to the store and get some.”

“Oh god, Peter,” Tony said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I fell asleep for a second and then I woke up to my phone ringing.” Peter was crying now. “It’s my fault! If I had just gone with her, I could’ve sensed it coming. I could’ve stopped it.”

“Peter, stop, its not your fault,” Tony said, pulling Peter in closer if that was even possible. “If you had been in there with her . . . if you had died, god, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Tony winced just thinking of that. What if Peter had died? How could he get past that?

“Nobody needs me,” Peter cried. “I just screw everything up. You even said so yourself.”

_You screwed the pooch hard._

“Stop it,” Tony said firmly, and pushed Peter away so he could hold his shoulders at arm’s length. “Stop that. I’ll tell you who needs you, and that’s me. I need you, kid. What happened was terrible and awful, but it was not your fault. So, can it with that, alright?”

Peter just sniveled and wiped at his face.

Tony sighed. “Repeat after me: It wasn’t my fault.”

“It- it wasn’t my fault,” Peter whispered.

“Louder.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Peter said.

Tony drew Peter into his chest again and wrapped his arms around Peter’s still trembling figure, having one arm around his shoulders and his other hand against the back of Peter’s head, gently pushing Peter’s face towards his chest.

Peter curled into the embrace and moved his arms around Tony’s middle.

Tony waited until his breathing shallowed until he gently examined Peter’s face at arm’s length and brushed away the rest of his tears.

His eyes drifted down to Peter’s hands which were still clenched into fists. “Peter, show me your hands,” he commanded, and Peter blinked in confusion. Tony reached down and pried open Peter’s fingers curled into his palms to reveal four crescent-moon shaped indents that were open wounds, very close to bleeding. “Jesus.”

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Peter said, his hands shaking.

“Why do you do this?” Tony asked, not releasing Peter’s hands yet.

“I told you, the pain grounds me, and sometimes I forget I’m doing it,” Peter said. “Helps to take away the emotional pain a little.”

“Can you stop doing this please?” Tony requested, looking into Peter’s eyes. “I get that it’s a habit, but you don’t need to ground yourself with pain. Just talk to me.”

“I’ll try,” Peter said softly.

Tony smiled. “That’ll have to do.” Tony stood to move to the other side of the bed to sit down more comfortably, but Peter reached back out for him.

“Don’t go,” he whimpered.

Tony swore he heard his heart splitting in two. “I’m not leaving. I’m just going to sit over here.”

Even in the darkness of the room, Tony could see Peter’s cheeks flush out a little. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” Peter shuffled back into a laying position and dragged the covers over his form, but his eyes didn’t close.

“Peter, close your eyes,” Tony said.

“If- if I . . . if this happens again . . .”

“I’ll come to you, don’t worry,” Tony assured. _Oh god this kid is too precious._

“Kay, thanks,” Peter mumbled before closing his eyelids and rolling over onto his side.

Peter ended up falling asleep pretty quickly, fatigue consuming him and taking him to the land of sleepiness.

Tony stuck around in the bedroom for a little while, making sure Peter wasn’t going to wake up before giving the sleeping kid a pat on the shoulder and whispering, “Night kid” and heading out of the room.

Since he was awake already, he headed down to his lab to tinker.

He messed around with a gauntlet before his eyes grew heavy. “God, insomnia really gets to you,” Tony muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his calloused hands. “FRIDAY, what time is it?” Tony asked the AI.

“It’s 3:56 am, Boss,” FRIDAY informed him. “I’d recommend getting some sleep.”

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Tony scoffed. “Is Peter okay?”

“Peter is currently in a state of deep sleep and his heart rate is normal.”

“Awesome,” Tony said with a yawn.

-

Sleeping really, really sucked these days.

Every night was haunted by night terrors and flashbacks. The terrible thing about nightmares is that they’re not usually accurate representations of what is drawn from one’s memory. Sometimes they’re twisted in just awful ways.

_He was back under the concrete again, pinned against the cold metal floor, twitching helplessly._

_The car was driving by._

_May’s little car._

_Peter’s spider-sense was panging in his head, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t push the concrete off him and save his aunt. “May!” he screamed. “May, watch out!”_

_Peter watched in terror as the other car smashed into the front of May’s, crinkling in the metal and shattering the windshield._

_Peter was suddenly standing two feet away and the whole scene was moving in slow motion. The shards of glass impaling May, her head slamming against the dashboard and he could even_ hear _the sounds of her bones breaking upon the impact._

_“May!” Peter cried._

_Suddenly something was shaking him and he clawed at whatever it was._

_“Get away from me!” he screamed at it, throwing punches at kicks its way, but it continued to shake him. “Leave me alone! I have to get to her!!”_

_“I’m really sorry about this,” something said, and then a stinging pain shot through Peter’s left cheek and he stumbled away from what hit him._

Then the scene disappeared, and he was back in his bed staring at Tony Stark, the slight pain in his cheek remaining. Peter gasped for breath, the nightmare winding him.

“M-Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered.

“Jesus, kid, you scared me,” Tony said.

“I woke you up again, didn’t I?” Peter said softly, shame coming to him.

Tony shook his head. “I was awake.” He sighed. “Alright, get in here.” He opened up his arms and Peter shuffled over so his head could splat against Tony’s chest like last time. Like every time. He continued to breathe in heavily, trying to wipe the images from his head.

The dream felt so real and vivid.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tony asked after Peter’s breathing evened out, rubbing circles on Peter’s back.

“Dunno.”

“Let me rephrase that, are you going to be alright if I make you talk about it?”

“Dunno,” Peter said again, tears coming to his eyes. “Probably- probably not, if that’s okay.”

Tony sighed. “Fine, but we’re going to have to talk about it eventually. I’m not going to let you keep it bottled up forever, because that is unhealthy.”

Peter sniveled and suddenly realized he was crying on Tony’s shirt again.

Tony moved Peter to arm’s length and ran his thumbs along Peter’s cheeks to rub away the tears that didn’t want to stop falling. He was crying in front of Tony again, but he still could not tell his tears to SHUT UP. Tony suddenly looked down.

“Peter, stop clenching your fists.”

Peter honestly had no idea he was doing it. “Sorry,” he whispered, relaxing his hands and winced when his fingernails came back with a tiny amount of blood on the tips.

“Shit,” Tony cursed. “Pete, you gotta stop doing that.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Peter sniffled. “It’s a bad habit.”

Tony gently pushed Peter back into his bed. “Bed time, kiddo.”

But I don’t want to sleep, Peter wanted to say. I don’t want to keep reliving it again and again.

When he did drift off however, Tony’s presence must have made the nightmares have a heart attack or something, because his sleep from then till morning was nightmare free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Peter does not intentionally self-harm. This isn't even self-harm. It's a bad habit that produces the slightest bit of pain that helps to ground him. Now that I'm saying it, it sounds like self-harm BUT IT'S NOT WHAT I WAS GOING FOR OKAY
> 
> Anyways, feel free to hit that kudos button and leave a review ;)


	4. Your Memory's So Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Crawls out of the abyss) HI GUYS. I'm sorry this took so long to get up. I kept meaning to work on it but I had so much stuff to do from school and I could never find the time. I managed to get this one up. It's a bit shorter than my previous ones, but it was all I could do. Love you guys, and I hope you enjoy <3

Peter stared out at the deep blue sky with tiny stars and tried to spot the few constellations he knew of. Sleeping really wasn’t his best friend at the moment, and having nightmares didn’t help the case.

A memory of May emerged in his mind.

_“Peter! Look, it’s the big dipper,” she said, pointing at the sky through the window._

_Peter craned his neck to see. “Mmm, cool,” he muttered._

Why couldn’t he have spent more time with her? If he had known how much time together they would’ve had . . .

Tears came to his eyes and slowly fell down his cheeks.

“Hey, Peter. How you holding up?” came a voice from the doorway.

Peter quickly swiped at his tears. “Fine,” he said softly.

The sound of footsteps filled his ears as Tony crossed the distance between them. Tony said gently, taking a seat next to Peter. “So, I know this is probably going to be hard for you to hear, but the funeral is in a couple of days.”

Peter bit down hard on his lip to keep his tears at bay. “Oh, right. So, you did get that organized then.”

“Do you want to prepare something to say?” Tony offered, rubbing up and down on Peter’s arm.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do that.” He had to do that. It was the least he could do, as much as it would hurt.

“I’ll call my tailor to get a suit ready for you,” Tony continued.

“M’kay.”  
Tony nodded and smiled sadly. He placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I know how hard this is, kiddo.”

Peter bit down harder as tears threatened to spill and nodded. “Th-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Another thing we have to talk about, can it with the Mr. Stark thing, okay? If you’re going to be living with me, call me Tony.”

“Oh, okay,” Peter said. “Thanks, Tony.” It felt weird and out of place saying Tony’s first name, but the man just smiled and patted Peter’s shoulder.

-

It was both funny and awkward when the tailor came to measure Peter the following day, since the kid clearly had no experience with this type of thing before. He looked to be slightly sweating and his face was flushed out.

Two days later, the funeral came around.

The day could not have been more theatrically perfect for the day of a funeral. It was dreary and miserable outside, clouds completely covering the sky and Tony heard some thunder in the distance. He sighed and went to go check on Peter.

The kid was already awake and sitting at the edge of his bed, his hands in his lap and eyes still.

“Pete?” Tony said, poking his head through the door.

Peter didn’t say anything.

Tony stepped all the way through the door and crossed the room to sit down next to the kid. He heard Peter snivel and reached out to draw the teenager into his arms for a comforting hug. He’d hugged Peter in the past week more than he’d ever hugged anyone else in his life but was finding that he didn’t mind comforting the kid.

Peter sniveled again and pressed his forehead against Tony’s chest, seemingly refusing to start crying. His hands were open, revealing the closing crescent moon nail marks imbedded in his palms.

“Come get some breakfast,” Tony said after a minute or so.

“I’m- I’m not really hungry, if that’s okay,” Peter whispered.

Tony sighed. “I know, kid. But I know you eat like a horse and not eating isn’t really good for you, so come get some breakfast.”

“Okay,” Peter said in a whisper and tony released him from his arms and guided Peter towards the kitchen.

Peter was already extremely quiet through breakfast, his eyes basically glued to the place as he poked at the contents with his fork.

“Do you, uh, need help with getting ready?” Tony asked awkwardly.

“I’ll ask you if I do,” Peter said quietly, impaling an egg with his fork.

Peter did end up needing help with tying his tie properly. The suit was a three-piece black one, as per usual for a funeral. Tony didn’t bother giving Peter a lesson and just quickly tied the tie and clapped his hands down on Peter’s shoulders. Peter had a slip of paper folded up in his hand, which Tony assumed was what he was going to say during the service.

“God, I’m so sorry, Peter,” he said.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head.

Happy chauffeured them to the church, Peter not saying a word the entire ride. Tony sat in the back with him, shooting him worried glances every now and then.

During the service, Peter was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping it together. His hands were trembling the entire time, but he didn’t cry. His eyes were clouded with tears, sure, but he kept himself together.

At least, until it came time for Peter to say what he was going to say up front. Tony hadn’t read the kid’s little speech he had, nor did he offer to read it, so he was quite curious as to what Peter had written.

Peter was shaking like a leaf, but he unfolded his paper, placed it on the podium, and smoothed it out with both hands. He glanced down at it for a brief second before opening his mouth.

“Um, hi,” he said into the microphone.

Because of course that’s how he’d start it.

“I’m- I’m Peter,” he continued nervously. “May Parker was my aunt. She was my only parent. When I was five, I lost both my birth parents to- to a plane crash. I was left to stay with my Uncle Ben and Aunt May. They were as good of parents as any. Then, my Uncle Ben died, and it was just me and May.”

He took a deep breath and continued to tremble. “And- and now, she’s gone. I want to stay that she didn’t suffer, that her . . . her passing was painless, but the truth is I don’t know.”

Tony was sort of taken aback, because Peter was a pretty good speaker. He saw the tears still present in the kid’s eyes, still not falling.

“I don’t know if she left painlessly, or what her last thought was about, or how long it took death to consume her,” Peter continued in a wavering voice, trying to keep it together so much. “I . . . I keep wondering if her last thought was about me.”

Tony saw the moment where a lone tear slipped down Peter’s face, which he desperately swiped at.

“She was such a good person,” Peter whispered. “She worked double shifts just to make sure we had enough money and she made my lunch before school if we didn’t have quite enough money to spare to buy me a lunch. She cared about each and every person in her life,” the tone of Peter’s voice increased, like he was just holding onto holding everything together. “I miss her, and she didn’t deserve this.”

Tony looked around and saw plenty of people wiping away their tears and Tony felt them threatening to come on himself. He knew he wasn’t going to cry, because he just doesn’t cry, but he was closer than he’d been in a very long time.

Peter walked back down to his seat next to Tony, who was unsure if he should hug Peter or say something. He resorted to placing his hand atop Peter’s to both hush his trembling and give him the comfort that he desperately needed. He didn’t even glance the billionaire’s way.

When the final well-wishers said their sorries and gave Peter a hug or two, Peter walked slowly over to the casket resting on the metal frame.

_Oh god,_ Tony thought.

Peter ran his hand across the side of the casket, whispering something that Tony couldn’t hear. He was still holding everything together, which surprised Tony. He was so sure the kid would be a sobbing mess by now, since he’d already cried his heart out multiple times since the night at the hospital.

Tony shuffled over to Peter’s side.

“Does- does the hurt ever go away?” Peter asked, his voice breaking.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. “I wish I could say yes.” Peter looked down.

Moving his hand under Peter’s chin, he gently turned his head. “I can’t promise you you’ll ever completely be free of all the grief,” Tony said honestly. “But it does get better. For you, that I promise.”

Finally, Peter broke down. Tears spilled over his eyelids and cascaded down his face and heartbreaking sobs ripped through him. Tony pulled Peter into his chest and held him there tightly, listening to the kid let it all out against his shoulder, arms around his torso.

“This- this sucks,” Peter sobbed and Tony drew him in closer if that was even possible.

“I know it does,” Tony sympathized. “I’m going to be here to help you through all of this, okay?”

“Do you- do you promise that, too?” Peter asked and Tony’s heart just about burst.

Tony tightened his grip. “Yes, that I promise too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews! I love hearing what you guys have to say!


	5. Deep In The Stillness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally remembers to get in contact with his friends and has a little mourning session and Tony and him discuss their fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PEOPLE.  
> AVENGERS ENDGAME TRAILER.  
> AHHHHH.  
> Holy shit it's HERE. I know it's been out for two days but I'm still freaking out. Wow. It looks so fantastic omfg. I can't wait. AND GUYS. ONLY FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS. I CAN LIVE WITH THAT.
> 
> Also, I knowwww this took a while to get up, but my Math teacher is THE WORST for giving homework and we have a test every week soooo it's kind of tough to write quickly and study and do homework.  
> With all that said, I hope you guys enjoy :)

After the funeral, a weight seemed to have lifted off Peter’s shoulders.

It could’ve been the fact that it was over with, or maybe that Peter got out what he wanted to say, or that he broke down again, draining a lot of the sadness out of him.

He started eating more, the following day being a breakfast of pancakes that Steve (omigod) prepared for everyone that was currently in the kitchen generously.

Sam and Clint were already chilling at the island. Clint was playing some kind of game on his phone and Sam was pouring syrup over his pancakes.

“Do- do you guys know where Tony is?” Peter asked quietly, waiting for Sam to finish with his condiments.

“I think he’s in his lab,” Steve responded. “Speaking of which, I should tell him to come out. FRIDAY, tell Tony to put down his wrench and get out of the lab and come eat.”

“Will do, Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY said instantly.

Sam plunked the syrup down on the table and Peter leaned over to grab it. Right as his fingers were about to touch it, Sam tapped it away, so it was just out of reach.

“Hey!” Peter squeaked.

“What?” Sam said innocently. “I didn’t do anything.”

Steve snorted and poured batter in the pan, which produced a little sizzling sound.

Peter rolled his eyes and walked around Sam’s chair to grab the glass bottle again.

“Whoops.”

Sam slid it to the other side of the table.

“Saaaaaaam,” Peter groaned.

“Peteeeeeer,” Sam returned. “I’m not doing anything.”

Tony then walked into the room. He blinked at the situation curiously. “Um, good morning.” He was dressed in a hoodie with the Stark Industries logo plastered on the front and dark grey sweatpants and white socks.

“Mr. Stark, can you tell Sam to give me the syrup?” Peter said with a scowl.

Tony snorted and took a seat next to Peter, patting the teenager’s shoulder twice. “You’re on your own there.”

“But I’m _hungry_ ,” Peter complained with a fake whine. If he was honest, this was funny, but he was _hungry_ , and Sam was being a _dick._

In a swift motion, Steve snatched the syrup off the table and personally handed it to Peter. “ _Thank_ you,” Peter said, uncapping the bottle.

“I don’t know what you’re so mad about,” Sam said. “I didn’t do anything.”

Peter poured syrup over his pancakes with a dramatic eyeroll and stabbed his fork through the stack. He felt closed to famished, so the pancakes tasted awesome. He devoured the stack in record time and placed his fork and knife neatly on the plate.

“I thought you were gonna eat the plate,” Clint said, still playing the game.

“What’re you playing?” Peter asked curiously, leaning over Sam to try to get a better look.

“I’m doing important things,” Clint said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Like playing Candy Crush,” Tony scoffed.

Peter coughed to hide his laughter.

First night that was nightmare free.

Peter couldn’t help but feel a small amount of triumph surge through his chest when he blinked in the sunlight that woke him up. His eyes drifted to his nightstand where he threw his jacket from . . . from **the night.**

He hadn’t touched it since, for some reason worried touching it might destroy the last thing that touched May’s body. He remembered exactly how that jacket touched her body, too. Earlier in the day of that horrible night, Peter and May had gone out grocery shopping, which was when she playfully shoved his arm after he made a quippy comment. That was the last time that jacket touched her. They’d forgotten popcorn, which was why Peter asked her to go get some.

_“Crap, we forgot popcorn,” Peter said with a puff._

_“Shoot,” May said. “We can go get some if you want to. We got time.”_

_“I don’t really feel like it,” Peter said flopping onto the couch. “Can’t you just go?”_

_May laughed. “I’ll go get some then, sweetie.” She hadn’t even taken her jacket off. Peter’s was hanging on a coat hook. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t fall asleep on me.”_

_“I don’t plan on it,” Peter said with finger guns and May left the apartment._

He hated this.

He hated that he didn’t go with her and might’ve been able to stop what happened. He could’ve called 911 right away and they might have saved her.

Then he remembered.

His phone.

He carefully unzipped the right pocket and the phone fell into his hands. It was dead, obviously. Peter’s eyes flicked around the room. There had to be an AC adapter somewhere. “Hey FRIDAY?” Peter said.

“Yes, Peter?” FRIDAY responded.

“Do you know where a phone charger would be?”

“There is one currently in the smallest drawer of your dresser.”

“Thanks.”

Peter hopped out of bed and crossed the room to rummage through the smallest dresser drawer. He immediately found a charger that would fit his phone and plugged it into the closest outlet to his bed and waited patiently for the phone to turn on.

It took a little while, but the phone eventually lit up.

Peter sucked in a breath and, with shaky hands, slipped the phone into his lap.

The lock screen was crammed with texts from Ned and MJ.

**5 days ago: Ned/ hey man I just bought a new lego set. Wanna build it w/me?**

**5 days ago: MJ/ hey loser did you study for the test**   
**5 days ago: MJ/ also we have a decath practice tomorrow after school**

**4 days ago: MJ/ didn’t see you in first period. Skipping?**

**4 days ago: Ned/ where r u?**

**4 days ago: Ned/ Peterrrrrrr don’t leave me with alone with MJ I swear she’s about to kill me**

**4 days ago: MJ/ Peter you missed decath what’s going on why aren’t you answering me**

**4 days ago: Ned/ is everything alright?**

**3 days ago: Ned/ coming to school today?**

**3 days ago: MJ/ skipping again?**   
**3 days ago: MJ/ skipping it is**

**2 days ago: MJ/ Peter are you alright**

**2 days ago: Ned/ Peter I’m worried are you okay**

**2 days ago: Ned/ Peter?**

**2 days ago: MJ/ Peter? What’s going on? Did you die?**

**Yesterday: Ned/ I’m really worried**

**Yesterday: MJ/ I’m worried Peter what’s going on**

Peter forced back the tears that wanted to form. He was so grateful to have such amazing friends.

**Peter/ hey**

**MJ responded within two heartbeats.**

**MJ/ omg peter hi what happened are you okay**

**Peter/ I’m alive if that’s what you mean by okay I guess**

**MJ/ figured that out myself. What happened**

**Peter/ it’s just…… something really bad**

**MJ/ anything you’d wanna share**

**Peter/ sure I guess. My aunt died**

The speech bubble appeared and reappeared, as if MJ was trying to think of the right thing to say.

**MJ/ omg Peter :( I’m so sorry (sends virtual hugs)**

**Peter/ thx MJ**

**MJ/ what’s going to happen now?**

**Peter/ I’m staying with a family friend rn and I’m doing alright given the circumstances**

**MJ/ :( I’m so sorry**

**Peter/ thx**

**MJ/ anything I can do to help?**

**Peter/ just don’t tell anyone yet, okay? I’m not ready for that just yet**

**MJ/ of course. You can trust me with your life**

**Peter/ I know I can**

**MJ/ ok, well I hope things get better for you**

**Peter/ me too**

**MJ/ luv u**

**Peter/ luv u too**

Ned’s response came right after he logged off with MJ.

**Ned/ OMG PETER!! What happened?**

**Peter/ may died**

**Ned/ what?**   
**Ned/ holy shit peter I’m so sorry**

**Peter/ it’s tough**

**Ned/ I’m so sorry omg**

**Peter/ I just finished talking to MJ about it**

**Ned/ we were worried sick**

**Peter/ yea I read the texts**

**Ned/ I’m so sorry**

**Peter/ yeah thx**

**Ned/ can I help?**

**Peter/ don’t tell anyone. That’s all you can do rn**

**Ned/ okay of course**

**Peter/ thx man**

**Ned/ welcome. If you need me to do anything else, just tell me**

**Peter/ actually yeah can you tell the teachers I’m not gonna b there for a while**

**Ned/ yeah totally. How long r u gonna b gone?**

**Peter/ I dunno**

**Ned/ aw :(**

**Peter/ yea**

**Ned/ I’m so sorry man**

**Peter/ thx**

The conversation ended after that and tears were finally slipping from Peter’s eyes. He sniffled and quickly wiped them away and placed his phone on the nightstand. He stared at the jacket for a minute before carefully drawing it into his arms.

 _If there’s anything out there at all, please let this all be a dream, and when I wake up tomorrow, May will be there,_ Peter pleaded, his body shaking with sobs as he clutched the jacket to his chest tightly. _I don’t know what I’m going to do. Please help me._

“Kid?”

Peter jumped and just about hid the jacket under his covers for some reason. He scrubbed his hand over his face before turning to see Tony standing right there. “H-hi,” Peter said.

“You, um, okay?” Tony asked, crossing the room. He glanced sadly down at Peter’s hands and gently reached out to pry his fingers from their death grip around the fabric.

“This- this is the last thing I have of her,” Peter whispered, letting Tony slide the jacket to the area to the left of the teenager.

Tony gently closed his arms around Peter, lifting him from his seat so they could stand flush against each other. Peter stood up and curled into the embrace, pressing his head against Tony’s shoulder.

The two shared a moment of silence before Tony spoke up. “So, I’m having your stuff be delivered over here,” Tony said.

“What?” Peter muttered, looking up at the billionaire.

“I’m getting all your clothes and bedding and stuff here,” Tony rephrased. “So, you feel more at home.”

Peter’s heart swelled. “Oh, thank you.”

“No problem, kiddo,” Tony said, ruffling Peter’s hair with his hand. He cleared his throat. “So, this jacket, um . . .” He paused and drummed his fingers on Peter’s back while he still held him tight to his chest. “What do you . . . want to do with it?”

“I’m keeping it,” Peter replied instantly.

“Okay . . . but just so you can heal a little bit more, maybe keep your distance from it?” Tony suggested.

“Are you kidding?” Peter said, backing out of the embrace. “This is all I have of her! I can’t just . . . just be separated from it, like I was separated from her.” He was surprised at his own bluntness. Tony looked like he just accidently stepped on a puppy’s tail.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tony said softly. “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Can I just . . .” Unbidden tears formed in Peter’s eyes. “Can I just be alone for a little?” This also surprised him. Maybe it was because Tony made him a little mad or that he wanted to call Ned and MJ or that he just wanted to cry and hold his jacket in peace.

Tony nodded, seemingly trying to not look hurt. “Sure. Just holler if you need me.”

When Tony left the room, closing the door behind him, Peter grabbed the jacket in his hands and lay it on his lap before reaching for his phone to call Ned or MJ. He wasn’t sure who he should call first.

Ned was his best friend, but recently MJ had become close to him. Her unpredictable, hilarious company made for some great laughing fits and not to mention she was _beautiful._ Not that that really means anything, but man. She had her own, natural, unique beauty that Peter found himself really liking.

He called her and listened to each ring.

“Peter?”

“MJ,” Peter breathed, suddenly wanting to cry.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to hear your voice,” she said. MJ wasn’t usually this sweet. Actually, she never was, so she clearly was really worried and cared about Peter. “It’s been a while. You missed me roasting Flash at the Decathlon meeting.”

“It’s been a really hard week,” Peter said with a sigh.

“I’ll bet,” MJ said sympathetically. “Me and Ned have been really worried about you. How are things?”

“As good as they could be right now I guess,” Peter said.

There was a pause. “God, I’m so sorry, Peter.” MJ wasn’t being snappy and careless like she usually was, which Peter was quite grateful for. She knew when things were serious. “If . . . if you don’t mind me asking, how did you find out?”

Peter nearly choked as huge tears formed in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, because his voice would break, and he’d cry.

“Peter?”

“I- I got a phone call,” Peter whispered, his voice wavering. “When I went to the hospital, she . . . she was already . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut and his bottom lip started to quiver. “And- and then I went to see her and- and I called someone to come get me.”

“Who?”

Peter bit down on his lip. “A family friend.”

“Which one?”

Peter sighed and shook his head as if she could see him. “Tony Stark.”

MJ sounded like she just choked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Peter said nervously.

“You called Tony Stark to come pick you up from the hospital?” she inquired. “Wow. How did he take that?”

“W-well I don’t think he minded that much since he hugged me for a long time while I cried,” Peter admitted. “It was so nice of him.”

“Wow,” MJ said. “Well, now that you live with him, can you ask him something for me? Can you ask him if he believes in climate change?”

“Sure, I guess,” Peter said. “You . . . don’t seem overly excited and blown away.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that much really,” MJ said neutrally. “I mean, I always knew you guys were close and all.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a pause.

“Hey, can I call Ned?” Peter asked.

“Oh, yeah, totally,” MJ said. “It was so good to hear your voice and to know that you’re being taken care of and everything.”

Peter smiled. “Thanks, MJ.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The line went dead, and Peter looked up Ned’s contact information and called his best friend. He brought his phone to his ear and waited.

“Hey, it’s Ned. You can leave a message if you want.”

Peter blinked, confused. He called again, and it went to voicemail. _Is he avoiding me? Or is he just busy. Oh god, did I make him mad?_

Overthinking was something Peter was quite guilty of, and the amount he overthought often made him sad. Peter sighed and pled his phone on his nightstand and got out of his bed. He took a shower and brushed his teeth before wandering down to the lab to see what Tony was up to, also maybe to apologize a little.

-

Tony had to admit that seeing Peter looking sort of alright made him happy, but then the memory of Peter coming very close to snapping made him a little uneasy.

“Tony?” Peter said softly. Tony turned his head. “I’m- I’m sorry I snapped.”

“It’s alright, I kinda deserved it,” Tony said a little guiltily. “Sorry.”

Peter closed the distance between them and hugged Tony, the billionaire quickly reciprocating.

“How are you doing?” Tony said after a second and broke free to place his hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“Alright,” Peter said. “I just got off the phone with MJ.”

“Who’s MJ?”

“She’s just my friend.”

Tony smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Mmhmm.” He was obviously just messing with him, but if Peter did have a girlfriend, he’d like to know.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Tonyyyy, it’s not like that.”

“Fine, but get over here I want your help,” Tony said, gesturing to the project he was working on.

They spent a couple of hours in the work shop before FRIDAY spoke up. “Mr. Rogers wants me to tell you, _‘Tony, get your ass up here or Clint is going to eat everything.’_ ”

Peter snorted at the fact that FRIDAY used Steve’s exact words.

“Tell him, _‘Steve, my ass will be up there in a second,’_ ” Tony said, brushing off his jeans before slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “I actually am kinda hungry.”

“Same,” Peter agreed, leaning into the touch, which made Tony smile fondly, as Tony guided the teenager out of the workshop.

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. “So, MJ isn’t your girlfriend, right?”

Peter gawked. “What? No! No, she’s just one of my best friends.”

“You seem awfully defensive,” Tony said teasingly.

“Tony,” Peter groaned. “I like her as a friend and that’s it.”

“Whatever you say.”

When they entered the kitchen, Steve flashed Tony and Peter a smile. “About time.”

Breakfast was uneventful. Peter was shy as Tony figured he’d be.

“How would everyone feel about popcorn and a movie?” Natasha piped up. Tony immediately looked over a Peter. A wave of sadness came over his face before the kid put up a façade and smiled, but it was forced.

“I’m alright, thanks,” he said politely, smiling again.

“Cool, it can be rated 18A then,” Clint said.

Tony reached over and gently rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder for a small consolation. Peter twitched, then relaxed and melted into the touch a little.

“Tony?” Peter said once they were headed back to the workshop.

“Yeah?”

“What’re- what’re you afraid of?”

That took him by surprise. Tony wasn’t one to talk about his fears and worries, as much as he thought he should. It wasn’t really talking about it, it was the ongoing thought in his head that convinced him that no one wanted to listen. That him talking would just annoy them.

Tony stood in front of Peter and they both stopped walking. “Afraid of? Like my triggers? What makes me scared?”

Peter shrugged and stared at the floor. “I dunno.”

“Uh . . . a trigger is water,” Tony said slowly. “Not . . . all water. But, still water. Being underwater.” Peter looked up at him curiously. Tony sighed. “It’s because of Afghanistan. A form of torture that they used was waterboarding.”

“Oh,” Peter said softly. “That- that makes sense.”

“Something I’m afraid of is . . .” He sighed. No one knew this. “Not being in control.”

A question that Rhodey once asked him while he was dealing with anxiety, which did make him think, was, _I’m not judging you or anything, but I am curious as to why you have panic attacks over New York and not Afghanistan._ It was blunt, but Rhodey was blunt when he was curious. Tony was too. When he thought about it, in Afghanistan, he was in control. He knew that he was going to get out and he was making a weapon capable of doing just that. He had two hands on the wheel.

But when New York happened, there was no control. He had no choice. No backdoor or second option. The only option was he dies, or everyone else dies.

“Oh,” Peter said again. “Um, why?”

“The whole New York thing,” Tony answered honestly. He cocked his head. “Why do you ask?”

“Just . . . just because I just wanted to know if e-even the great Iron Man is scared of things,” Peter said quietly.

“He is,” Tony said in the third person which made Peter smile a little. The billionaire wrapped and arm around Peter’s shoulder again. “What say we go back to working?”

“Sure,” Peter said with a smile.


	6. I Can Hear You Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes back to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO FREAKING LONG.  
> School just sucks rn.  
> I'm so sorrry omg

_“Let me go!”_

_Their hands remained clasped around his biceps in a painfully tight grip._

_“You. Could have. Saved. Her.” The crunched in hood of the car with May draped over the steering wheel and blood trickling down from forehead was presented in front of Peter’s eyes._

_“Please, let me go! I can still save her!” Peter cried, thrashing. The car started to melt like acid had just been thrown over it. “Let go! It’s getting to her!” No matter how hard he thrashed, he couldn’t remove the death grip on his arms._

_“You could’ve saved her. Like you could’ve saved me.”_

_Peter stopped moving and craned his neck. What one was a blank face staring at him was Uncle Ben’s. “Ben! You have to let me go!” The car was almost finished melting, closing in on May’s unmoving form. “It’ll be okay if I can just get to her!”_

_“You mean it might have been okay if you had gotten to her.”_

_Then the car vanished, and everything went quiet and the hands holding Peter’s arms disappeared, sending him crashing to the ground, bracing the fall with his palms. He looked up, and May was gone._

_“No!” Peter screamed, scrambling over to the spot where she just was._

_“Peter!”_

_That voice._

_Where did he know that voice from?_

_“Peter, wake up!” Something touched him. It was gentle, but he flinched anyway. There was a soft shake that went through his body, then the scene disappeared._

Where his eyes were once looking at an empty road, they were looking at Tony’s worried expression. “Jesus, kid, you with me?”

“I- I think so,” Peter whispered, forcing himself to sit up. He was braced with Tony’s gentle arms.

“You scared me there,” Tony said, patting Peter’s shoulder. “You alright?”

“I thought I was getting better,” Peter said.

“Peter, grief is a long-ass process. I still freak out over my parents’ deaths even though I’m, what, 47?” Tony comfortingly rubbed circles on Peter’s shoulder, who was trying to shallow his breathing and hold back tears. “What was the nightmare about?”

“It . . . it just . . . everything . . .” Peter stuttered, trying extremely hard to keep everything together. He shouldn’t be freaking out like this. “It- it might’ve been okay.”

“What might have been okay?” Tony asked.

“Just . . .”

Peter tried to push himself away from his mentor's hold, but Tony's arms remained still and kept him in place.

“Peter?”

Peter's bottom lip trembled.

"Kid?"

“Everything!” Peter exploded, collapsing against Tony’s chest. “Everything might have been okay if I wasn’t so fucking useless!” Tony closed his arms around Peter’s body, holding him tightly. “I caused the deaths of everyone important in my life and it might have been okay.”

“Peter,” Tony said gently but firmly. “None of that was your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” Peter sniveled. “I could’ve helped Ben, but I was frozen, and I couldn’t move and then he just . . .” Peter raised his arms to wrap around the billionaire.

“We’ve been over this. It’s not your fault. Nothing was your fault. I’m not gonna argue with you,” Tony said, keeping his arms around Peter. He sighed. “Look, I’m not an open person and people don’t know shit about me. I’ve been through a lot and I always used to blame myself. But you need to realize that these things aren’t your fault and that you’re an amazing person, okay?”

That was when Peter started to cry against Tony’s chest where the arc reactor once was. Tony brushed his hand through Peter’s hair. “Everything is going to get better.”

Peter sniveled and nodded.

They were silent for a while before Peter spoke up. “You . . . you really think I’m an amazing person?”

“Yeah, kid, I do,” Tony said, and Peter pulled away from the hug, his cheeks slick.

Peter rubbed his hands under his eyes. “Th-thanks, Tony.”

“Yeah, of course.” He gave a small smile and patted Peter’s shoulder.

-

When Peter’s stuff from his apartment finally arrived, Peter did look quite happy.

Tony watched him fluff out his bedding and place all of his little things on his dresser and the one bare shelves. His bedding was a dull, rainy blue colour that was easy on the eyes and pleasing to look at.

When Peter pulled out a picture frame, however, his face fell, and his grip tightened around the frame immensely.

“Pete, you alright?” Tony asked from his position on Peter’s bed.

Peter slowly turned the frame, so Tony could see, and the billionaire’s heart just about broke. It was a picture of Peter and May that looked like it had been taken with Peter’s phone while they were out for lunch or something. They were both smiling and looked happy.

“Good god, kid,” Tony muttered, standing and crossing the room, instantly pushing Peter’s head against his chest.

“I miss her so much,” Peter whispered.

“I know you do,” Tony empathized. He’d never stopped missing his parents, even his dad. Sure, Howard was a shit father, but he was still his father. And his mom. God, his mom. When Peter broke free, the frame still in his grip, he walked over to his nightstand and placed the frame horizontally on the surface and dusted off the flat edge a little.

“Hey, Tony?” Peter said.

“Yup?”

“How . . . um . . . how is school going to, like, happen?”

Shit.

“Like- like am I gonna have to switch?” Peter added, looking at Tony with those huge eyes.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Tony said, even though he was completely unsure as to how the kid was supposed to get to school from the Compound, since it was a hell of a long drive from Midtown.

Peter nodded. “M’kay.” He looked down. “Um, when do I have to go back?”

_Have to._

“Whenever you’re ready, kiddo,” Tony said gently. “Just tell me.”

“M’kay,” Peter said again just as his phone rang. Tony craned his neck to read the contact name. “It’s Ned. Can I take this?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said. Peter smiled and nodded and grabbed the phone from his nightstand and placed it against his ear.

“Hey Ned – yup – thanks, man – I’m not sure – I’m doing alright – just organizing my stuff at the Compound – oh my god, stop freaking out – I guess . . .”

-

Peter did end up deciding to go to school for a day just to see how it would go.

“Yeah, I think I’ll go tomorrow,” Peter said with a sigh after Tony asked again when he wanted to go back to school. “It’s been two weeks.”

“Kid, don’t force yourself into doing it,” Tony said.

“No, I want to go,” Peter insisted. "I- I want to _do_ something."

"Okay," Tony concurred, patting Peter's shoulder. "I just want what's best for you."

"Yeah I know," Peter said with a smile. "I'm gonna tell my friends. Can we work in the lab in ten minutes?" Peter had just recently come up with a couple ideas for his webshooters, and was just now realizing one thing.

Spider-Man.

He hadn't been Spider-Man for almost two weeks.

And he _needed_ Spider-Man. It was a mask to cover his fears and to just do it. To help people. To save lives. To do what he couldn't for May. While other kids had electronics and video games as their distractions, Peter's was Spider-Man.

"Sure," Tony said happily, interrupting Peter's train of thought. "I'll meet you down there."

Peter smiled briefly and headed off to his room to call Ned. He felt like hadn't talked to Ned and MJ forever and was finding that he _really_ missed them. Ned being his best friend, and the one he could talk to when he needed to, who was there for him to nerd with, who was there for gut-busting laugh attacks and secret handshakes. MJ being his second best friend, who was there for her unpredictable, hilarious company, witty and sassy remarks, but who was also one of the best people Peter had ever met.

He opened their group chat which MJ characteristically named _'Normal Person and 2 Losers'_. It made Peter laugh a little every time.

Peter/ hey. Guess who's gonna b at school tomorrow?

He only had to wait a minute for Ned to jump into the conversation.

Ned/ WHOOOO!!!! YAYYYYY!!!!!! :)))))

Peter/ omg Ned XD

MJ/ oh yay! I'm so glad you're doing better!

Peter/ yeah. I just feel like I should now

Ned/ well just don't force yourself

Peter/ yeah I know

MJ/ we really miss you

Peter/ I miss you too :)

Ned/ You should've seen Flash's face when MJ roasted him today. It was so great I died

MJ/ it was pretty fantastic

Peter/ I'm sure I'll hear all about it tomorrow lol

Ned/ oh you will

Peter/ k love you guys i gtg

MJ/ love you too

Ned/ love you more bro

Peter/ lol bye

While Peter sat in the backseat of the car with his backpack on his lap and legs swinging anxiously, he had a lot of time to practice scripts for when his classmates would ask him where he was.

_"There was a surprise trip to Canada."_

_"May really needed help at home."_

_"I took a plane to Wakanda."_

That last one was pure stupidity and the second made his heart hurt.

He had no idea how he was supposed to avoid questions that would give him the same form of emotional pain and not start crying. Crying was the only thing he seemed to be able to do without fail this past week, and it was certainly not his most proud achievement.

_Congratulations, Peter, you've cried an average of 1937294 times this week! I'm so proud._

"Happ, pull over for a second," Tony suddenly told Happy.

"Am I in trouble?" Peter asked innocently.

"God no, I just have to talk to you for a second," Tony said as the car pulled to a stop on the side of the road.

"I'm definitely in trouble," Peter murmured and actually felt Tony's eyeroll.

Tony turned in his seat so he could look at Peter's eyes. "Peter, things are going to be different. You're a smart kid so I'm sure you knew that already."

"Yeah," Peter said softly, his legs still swinging.

"I don't care if you tell them that I'm your guardian for the time being," Tony said. _Time being._ Those words stung, but Peter just nodded. "But just know that they are going to treat you differently. You might have some people being especially nice to you or the opposite," Tony continued bluntly. "You'll get questions, and just answer them with a simple _'fuck off'_ , okay?"

"Yup," Peter said. He was a little shocked at Tony's extreme bluntness but appreciated it somehow.

"And you call me if you need to," Tony said slowly so Peter could let the words sink in. "You call me if you need anything, okay? I mean _anything_. I will pick up. That i promise."

Peter had a brief flashback to when Tony said those last words at May's funeral, when he told Peter that the hurt would never go away, but that it would get better.

The teenager nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Tony."

"Of course, kid," Tony said with a smile before turning to Happy. "Alright, let's get the kid to school."

Peter worried for a minute that the car might make too much of a statement but pushed the irrational worry aside and debated on whether or not to prepare more scripts. He decided on using the very useful skill that one is lucky to possess: telling the truth.

When Peter arrived at the school's entrance and opened the car door, Tony rolled down his window. "Remember, you call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yeah," Peter said, even though he certainly didn't want to. It wasn't that he didn't want Tony's help, it was that he felt like he'd exceeded his limit of asking for it and he could death with anything that might happen at school. "Bye, Tony." He slammed the door and strode off to the entrance of the school.

He blinked in the bright, fluorescent lights until his eyes adjusted quickly. He shot a quick text to Ned telling him that he had just gotten to school before heading to his locker.

The first class was PE, and Peter was lucky to have his gym strip in his locker already, otherwise that would have been bad.

"Peter!" he heard from down the hall and his head shot up.

"Ned!"

The both sprinted down the hall and caught each other in an utterly crushing hug and Peter suddenly wanted to cry, like he'd been doing for the past week too many times.

"Oh my god," Ned exclaimed. "I missed you so much!" He held Peter in the hug tightly.

"Missed you too, man," Peter said breathlessly, with a genuine smile. "Where's MJ?"

"I think she went to the gym already," Ned said. "We'll go see her now." He released Peter from the hug and waited at Peter's locker while he collected his gym strip.

It was one of the most happiness-inducing things Peter had honestly ever experienced when he saw MJ's face light up when she saw him. "Peter!" she said, leaping up from the bench and running over to hug him. He caught her with a breathless laugh.

"So, you didn't miss me at all then," Peter said sarcastically and MJ chuckled.

"Not one bit. Had an amazing time without you. This embrace right here is me trying to strangle you."

"I knew it."

They both laughed and broke free from the hug.

"Penis Parker's back!"

Peter groaned and turned around to see Flash and his friends in a cluster. "Nice to see you too."

Gym class was fine. Coach Wilson gave Peter a smile and a _'welcome back'_ and everyone was normal.

Until gym class was over and Peter, Ned, and MJ were waiting around for the bell to ring.

"Where have you been?" Flash said, leaning on the wall.

"Sick," Peter lied. He hadn't been sick since the spider bite. For some reason he could not bring himself to tell Flash, even though he convinced himself to tell the truth.

"Not off fucking Tony Stark?"

"What the fuck?" Peter exclaimed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You seem a little defensive," Flash taunted. "Are we sure that's not how it went?"

"Fuck you," MJ said. "Leave him alone."

"I was not doing that," Peter nearly shouted. "Fuck off."

"I say you did," Flash continued. "If you wanna go that route, I know someone who is always available that's more age appropriate."

Peter didn't even feel his fist connecting with Flash's jaw until after it happened.

-

"He did _what?_ "

Tony was completely shell-shocked that Peter, the kid who was the sweetest and most amazing person, would willingly punch someone in the jaw.

"I'll be there in ten minutes." Thank God he was already out and about, otherwise the trip would've taken too much time. He hung up the phone and veered the car right to head to Peter's school.

There must have been a legitimate reason.

In no way did Tony think Peter would punch someone unless it was for a real reason.

When he walked into the principal's office, the first thing he was greeted with was a copper-skinned kid with black hair holding a tissue against a bleeding cut on his jaw, with a woman, who Tony assumed was his mother, sitting to his left. Then there was Peter, sitting across the room with his knees drawn to his chest.

_Oh god._

Both the kid and his mom looked up and an expression of pure shock came over their faces.

"Hi, Tony," Peter said softly.

"Hey, kid."

"Oh, Mr. Stark, I'm glad you could make it," the principal said calmly, gesturing to a seat next to Peter. "Take a seat."

Tony plopped himself down in the seat next to Peter, who didn't move a muscle. His eyes were full of unshed tears that made Tony's heart burst a little.

"I want him expelled!" the kid's mom said in a shrill voice that made Tony want to kindly destroy her vocal cords. "He deserves to stay as far away from my boy as possible!" She reached over and tried to pull the kid against her side, but the kid shook her off and muttered something that Tony couldn't hear.

"You've been enlightened on the situation, Mr. Stark," the principal said to Tony. "A five day suspension is typical for these situations, but given Peter's position and his grades and attendance, we're settling for a three day one."

"I say expulsion," the kid's mom continued. If this kid had any of his mom's qualities, Tony didn't blame Peter for punching him.

"Expulsion won't be necessary," Tony said. "Peter won't do it again, right, kid?" Tony nudged Peter's side gently.

"Yes," Peter said softly.

"Three days then," the principal confirmed. "Peter will be returning home today."

"That's fine," Tony said. "Let's go, Peter."

Once they were in the car, Tony turned to Peter. "Alright, what happened?"

"He was just being a dick," Peter said with a sigh.

"I refuse to believe that you'd punch someone just because they were being a dick," Tony said.

Peter's bottom lip started to tremble. "He just . . . he just said something about you."

Tony's heart dropped. "What did he say?"

"He asked where I had been and I said I was sick and then . . ." Peter paused and Tony watched the tears build in his eyes, as much as he seemingly tried to contain them. "And then he said . . ." Peter pressed his fingers over his eyes. "He said, _'not off fucking Tony Stark?'_ "

Tony almost stopped breathing.

How fucking dare that kid?

How dare he even _think_ something like that, let alone _say_ it?

"Oh my god," Tony muttered, grabbing Peter and yanking him in for a hug. "Fuck, he's a dick."

"I . . . I promise it's nothing like that," Peter whispered, his voice breaking.

Fuck.

Then Tony's heart actually shattered. "Fuck, Peter, I know," Tony said, holding Peter tighter. "He was being an absolute dick."

"I can't believe I punched him."

"I'm glad you did."

Peter pushed away and looked at Tony with wide eyes. "But I got suspended."

"If I was able to choose, I would have expelled that kid and gave you a fucking pat on the back," Tony said. "What's his name anyways?"

"Flash," Peter said.

Tony just about choked. "Well no wonder."

"So you're not mad at me?" Peter asked.

"Fuck no I'm not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for making you guys wait forever.  
> I hope you liked this chapter and make sure to leave kudos and a review and some requests and suggestions <3


	7. You're Still An Inspiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFH TRAILER!!!!!!! OMFG IT LOOKS FANTASTIC. I'd love to see Peter and MJ in a relationship, that would be so cute
> 
> Much love to y'all who have stuck around this long <3

_The crack of his fist against Flash's jaw was just as satisfying as it could possibly be and a spurt of blood came from his mouth._

_Then a sudden flash of blinding white light emerged in Peter's eyes and he stumbled back, shielding them._

_When he blinked them open, the white light was gone and in the place of Flash was May on the floor with a knife pierced through her back and dark red blood pooling on her grey t-shirt. Peter tried to scream, but his vocal chords refused to produce sound._

_"You stabbed her in the back."_

_Peter whirled around and tried to scream again, he tried to cry, but nothing came out. His emotions didn't seem to exist._

_The blood kept pouring out of the wound on May's back, sliding onto the floor of what was now their apartment, and a jar of new popcorn was sitting on the floor next to her. The blood was starting to curl around the popcorn, leaving red smears on the plastic._

_"May!" Peter tried to scream but all that came out was breath._

_Then strong arms closed around Peter's chest, pinning his arms to his body. He thrashed wildly but the arms wouldn't give way._

_"You stabbed her in the back."_

_He knew that voice._

_It was Tony._

_Peter tried again to get to his aunt but Tony's arms held him in place as May's shirt started to lose all its grey colour and the popcorn tipped onto its side. Peter tried to scream again but unpopped popcorn kernels flew out of his mouth instead of words, turning to popcorn as they landed on May's blood._

_"Peter!"_

_Why did this voice sound like Tony, too?_

_"Peter!!"_

Then Peter was being shook, hard, until the apartment disappeared around him and the arms around his chest retracted and he was back in his bed, entangled in his blanket with the worried eyes of Tony Stark looking down at him.

At first, the contrast of dream versus reality didn't settle on Peter and he scrambled away from Tony's hands, kicking at the man's chest, the dream still flashing before his eyes. "Get away from me!" he screamed, voice returning and tears streaming from his eyes. He could still see the blood on the floor. The blanket wrapped itself around Peter's legs in his attempt to scramble across the bed and caused him to plummet to the ground, landing hard on his right arm, creating a yelp that echoed through the room.

"Oh god, kid," Tony said, moving around the bed and bending down to kneel at Peter's side. "Peter, it was a dream, you're okay."

Tony's voice sounded like it was underwater.

Tony clasped his hands around Peter's biceps, which only made the teenager struggle harder. "Get away from me! Get away!" Peter cried, the tears increasing. "You can't keep me from her, get away! Why are you walking in the blood?!" And why weren't his sweatpants turning red? Peter kicked at Tony, successfully landing a hit on his chest, which made Tony fall back a little bit.

"Peter," Tony said, his voice wavering. "Kid, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The blood was suddenly fading from view and so was the popcorn as the dream drained itself from Peter's mind set.

He stared into Tony's worried eyes until it all slipped away and he was back in reality, laying on the floor of his room.

"Peter." Tony gently pulled Peter up into a sitting position. "Jesus Christ, kid."

"Oh my god," Peter whispered, throwing himself into Tony's arms. They didn't feel like the ones that held him back at all. Tony enveloped Peter in a returned hug, burying the side of his face in Peter's hair. "Oh my god. I hurt you! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, hey," Tony said gently. "It's okay. You're okay."

He _hurt_ Tony.

How could he?

"That must have been one hell of a nightmare," Tony said, slowly rocking back and forth with Peter still clutching him tightly.

Peter sniveled. "Y-yeah."

"You scared me, kid," Tony said softly.

"I'm so sorry!" Peter cried. "I kicked you. I'm so sorry!!"

Tony shushed Peter gently. "Hey, it's all good. I've had worse."

"I can't believe I attacked you," Peter sobbed.

"Enough, kid. It's all okay."

Peter pulled away and raised his hand to scrub the tears from his face, but Tony caught his hand mid-motion and completed the gesture for him, brushing his thumbs across Peter's cheeks to take away his tears. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter shook his head violently. "No, no! I can't! I don't want to-"

"Peter, calm down, it's okay," Tony soothed, steadying Peter with his hands. "It's okay."

Peter took a lot of deep breaths to help calm himself down and barely felt Tony pulled him into his arms and lifting him back onto the bed. Covers were drawn over his still trembling body as his heavy eyelids started to close.

"Don't leave," Peter mumbled.

Tony started to stroke Peter's hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

Darkness consumed Peter before he even knew it.

-

Once Tony was absolutely sure Peter was asleep, he let out a heavy breath he had been holding in.

His chest still ached a little from Peter kick so he took a trip to the bathroom to check it out and bit his lip when he saw a bruise over the area and mentally sighed.

On the way back to his bedroom, Steve turned the corner out of no where and Tony just about shrieked and jumped back. "Jesus fucking Christ you can't scare me like that," he hissed, placing a hand over his heart.

"Sorry," Steve said quietly. "I heard screaming. Is everything okay?"

"Peter had a nightmare," Tony said in the same quiet tone, waving his hand dismissively. "He's fine now." _I think._

Steve raised an eyebrow and Tony sighed.

"He attacked me." He hated saying that out loud

"Bucky's done that a lot since his HYDRA stuff, it's normal," Steve said sympathetically. "I've done it too. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, he just nailed me in the chest, but I'm fine," Tony responded, shifting his weight, wanting to get back to his room.

Steve nodded. "Okay, goodnight, Tony."

"Night, Steve."

Tony woke up at eight in the morning, surprised that he managed to get any sleep at all, and immediately checked the bruise on his chest. It didn't look any worse since he saw it last night, so he assumed all would be fine.

"FRIDAY, is Peter up?" Tony asked the AI, grabbing clothes.

"Peter is still sleeping, Boss," FRIDAY responded instantly. "Shall I wake him?"

"Nah, let him sleep, he had a rough night." Tony pulled on a pair of jeans. He hadn't worn jeans in a long time but they seemed to feel right for some reason.

When Tony headed into the kitchen to make some coffee, Rhodey was already there with a bowl of cereal. He looked up and gave Tony a smile when he heard the footsteps.

"Hey, Tones," he said. "Did you actually get to sleep?"

"Yeah, surprisingly," Tony said, poking through the cupboard for the coffee.

"So I heard yesterday was . . . eventful."

Tony ran a hand down his face. "Fuck, Peter punched a kid because he said shit about me."

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. "Peter doesn't seem like the type to punch someone."

Tony laughed dryly. "Well, wait till you hear what this kid said about me. He asked Peter if . . ." Tony wanted to smack himself across the face. "He asked Peter if him and I were off . . . were off _fucking_."

"Jesus," Rhodey breathed. "That's fucking disgusting, oh god. I'm almost glad Peter punched him."

"I am glad." Tony started making his coffee right as Peter walked into the room with his hair unkempt and wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. "Peter!" Tony said with a smile. "Good morning."

"Hi," Peter said shyly, eyeing Rhodey at the counter. "Um, good morning, Tony and Mr. Rhodes."

"Just call me Rhodey, I already told you," Rhodey said with a chuckle and Peter's cheeks flushed out a little bit.

"Oh, sorry," he said quietly.

"You doing better now, bud?" Tony asked, crossing the room to stand in front of Peter.

Peter looked down. "Yeah, I'm okay. Th-thanks."

Rhodey eyed them curiously. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Peter said quickly. "I just . . . I just had a rough night, that's all."

After breakfast, Tony lead Peter into the living room where he sat the kid down on one of the couches. Peter looked up at him. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, jeez," Tony said, sitting next to him. "I'd like you to tell me about your nightmare last night, please."

Peter looked down at his hands, which had already started to tremble. "Oh . . . um . . . I . . . I don't really want to talk about it, if . . . if that's okay."

Tony sighed. "I know, kiddo. But you really should." He cocked his head slightly. "How about this, I'll ask yes or no questions, so you only have to say one word. That sound okay?"

"Tony, I really don't want to do this," Peter said, making it sound painful.

Tony felt for him, but pushed on. "Was it worse than the other ones?"

Peter nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on his lap. "Yes."

"Was it about the same thing the others were?"

"Yes."

"Was . . . was I in it?"

Peter bit his lip. "Yes."

"Was I . . ." He didn't want to say it out loud. "Was I hurting you?" That was one thing he never wanted to do in his life. He'd never forgive himself if he hurt Peter.

"Sorta." Peter's eyes welled up and he buried his face in his hands. "You weren't inflicting physical pain."

"Was I retraining you from doing something?"

"Yes."

"Do you want a hug?" Tony asked hopefully.

Peter nodded and his lip quivered. "Yes." Tony immediately Peter into his chest.

"Are you okay now?" Tony asked into Peter's hair.

"A little bit," Peter responded honestly, wrapping his arms around Tony's middle. "Th-thanks."

"Of course, kid."

-

**Ned/ I can't believe you punched Flash**

**Peter/ yeah well he was being a complete dickwad**

**Ned/ he was. I'm so mad that he said that to you**

**Peter/ me too >:(**

**MJ/ it was amazing, Peter, honestly**

**Peter/ lol, thx MJ**

**MJ/ you should punch him more often**

**Peter/ haha, I don't really want another suspension, thanks**

**Ned/ speaking of, when are you coming back**

**Peter/ tomorrow**

**MJ/ I'll stick it to Flash if he pulls something again**

**Ned/ we know you will lol**

**MJ/ I'm mad I didn't do it on Monday**

**Peter/ it's fine, lol**

**MJ/ but Peter, if he's being a fuckwad to you again, I will help you**

**Peter/ thx :)**

**Ned/ me too, I hate it when he picks on you**

**Peter/ what makes three of us lol**   
**Peter/ what class do we have first tomorrow**

**Ned/ spanish shoot me**

**Peter/ ugh**

**MJ/ cheer up, Flash isn't in that class**

**Peter/ true**

**Ned/ true**

**MJ/ gtg seeya losers**

**Peter/ love you too**

 

 

Peter was nervous about coming back to school.

While he sat in the passenger seat of one of Tony's Audis, his eyes were fixed on his fidgeting hands. Happy had been given the day off which was why Tony was the one driving Peter. They'd been in the car for a long time now, since the Compound was so far away, which made Peter question how he was going to keep going to school.

"Tony?" he asked softly.

"Yup?"

"How am I going to keep coming to school if we- we live at the Compound?"

Tony drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hung a left. "Well, I don't mind driving you, but yeah, I understand where you're coming from."

Peter nodded.

"How about I see if I can get the tower back?" Tony suggested.

Peter's eyes widened. "You'd- you'd do that for- for me?" Also the tower must be pretty expensive to get back.

Tony smiled. "Of course. I've been wanting to have some space between me and Rogers anyways," he half-joked. Peter blinked at him curiously.

"Um . . . do you forgive him?" Peter asked.

Sadness flashed before Tony's eyes for a brief moment, no doubt remembering the fallout they had. A memory of Tony's condition when he just barely made it back from Siberia came to Peter. He cried seeing his mentor like that, with blood smeared across his face and harsh bruises and gashes littering his body. He looked like he was in horrible pain. Peter remembered Rhodey basically shoving Tony into the Medbay, yelling at him to sit down while Tony protested just as loudly.

"That's a complicated question, kiddo," Tony sighed after a second. "I'd just like a little space, that's all."

Peter bobbed his head. "Gotcha."

They drove in silence the rest of the way to school. Tony parked in the parking lot towards the back and shifted in his seat so he could face Peter. "Okay. If that Flash guy is a dick to you again, I'd like you to tell him to kindly fuck off and walk away. No punching, as awesome as it was."

"Okay," Peter said softly. "No punching."

"Also, call me if you need anything," Tony said. " _Anything._ "

"Yup," Peter said, grabbing his backpack from the floor. He reached out and opened the car door. "Thanks, Tony."

The billionaire smiled. "Bye, kid."

Peter strode through the parking lot and headed to his locker to grab his Spanish books. He got a couple of smiles and waves from people he knew that he hadn't talked to since May died.

When he entered the Spanish room, he was immediately pulled into a bone-crushing hug from Ned. He stumbled back with a breathless laugh before encircling his arms around his friend. "It's only been three days," Peter laughed.

"Am I not allowed to miss my best friend?" Ned said, releasing him from the hug. "I've missed you a lot."

"Missed you too," Peter said, taking his usual seat.

MJ walked in a couple minutes later. "Hey, losers," she said, sliding into her chair. She did not give Peter that suffocating hug that Ned did.

"Peter, here's the notes that we took while you were gone," Ned said, pushing a couple sheets of lined paper onto Peter's desk.

Spanish was fine until the end.

Peter was just finishing up a worksheet that he had missed out on when one of Flash's friend tapped him on the shoulder from behind. Peter craned his neck to look at him.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Your session with Iron Man."

It took all Peter's willpower not to leap over the desk and clobber his face. "Fuck you, that's not true," Peter said angrily.

"Yeah, fuck you," MJ said. "Peter did not fuck Tony Stark, you asshole. You just wish it happened with you."

"Whatever, freak," the guy said with an eyeroll and backed off.

Peter turned and mouthed _thank you_ at MJ, who mouthed back _loser._

The rest of the day was uneventful.

Flash left him alone and the only negative form of attention he got was when someone asked him why he'd been gone, to which he responded with a simple, _I was sick._

After school, Ned caught up to him in the hallway. "Hey man!"

Peter smiled warmly. "Hey!"

"Guess who got a new TIE Fighter LEGO set?"

Peter couldn't help but get excited about that. "That's awesome! Have you built it yet?"

Ned shook his head as Peter got to his locker. "Nope, I was waiting for you. Maybe we could get together and build it?"

"I'd love to, but I have to see if Mr. Stark will-"

"You're living with Tony Stark?!" Ned almost exclaimed and Peter whirled around.

"Ned! Shut up! Not a lot of people know that," he whisper-yelled. "Only you and MJ."

"You told MJ and not me?" Ned whispered back, a little bit hurt.

"You didn't answer when I called you," Peter shot back.

Ned's hurt look increased. "I was busy, I'm sorry!"

Peter hated getting irritated at Ned. He'd done too much for Peter to stay angry at. "It's fine, it's fine. Just leave don't broadcast to everyone that I live with Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Ned said as Peter shut his locker.

"It's okay."

He started for the doors and Ned followed him. "I'll get back to you about the TIE Fighter," Peter said and was happy when Ned's face lit up.

"Okay! Cool! That sounds good," he said excitedly.

"I'll seeya tomorrow," Peter said with a smile.

"Bye!"

He found Tony's car in the corner of the parking lot and slid into the passenger seat quickly.

"Why hello there," Tony said. "How was school?"

"Alright," Peter said.

"Any assholes?"

"None that I couldn't deal with," Peter said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh, about the tower, we can move back into it on Monday," Tony said.

"Really?" Peter said with wide eyes. "You actually did that?"

"Of course," Tony said.

Peter sighed. "I feel really bad though."

Tony chuckled. "It's okay to let people do things for you. I don't mind helping you out. Since I'm your temporary guardian and all."

The words really stung this time.

But Peter smiled anyways. "Thanks, Tony. Thank you so much."

"No problemo, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year is going a lot better than the last three, don't y'all agree?
> 
> Leave a review and kudos, they both make my day <3<3


	8. Can It Be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter confides in Tony about the night with the Vulture and has a terrible day at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three months till Endgame. Ahhhh

"Just so everyone's aware, Peter and I are moving back to the tower tomorrow," Tony announced in the middle of a movie while Peter was in his room doing whatever teenagers do.

" _What?_ " Clint nearly shouted right as Natasha said, "Now hold on a second."

"Why?" Rhodey asked. "Why didn't you say something?"

"So you all wouldn't try to stop me," Tony said, like it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

Rhodey reached over and clicked the pause button on the remote.

"What if there's a mission and you're too far away to get there in time?" Steve asked. "Or what if we're too far away to get to you in time?"

"I'll manage," Tony said dismissively.

"Tony," Natasha said sternly. "You have a kid now."

"He's not mine, I'm just his temporary guardian." It hurt saying that, as true as it was. Yeah, this was only temporary. But then what? What was he supposed to do when their time was up?

He didn't want to leave Peter.

But he didn't want to corrupt him either, like Howard did to him, and if that took smashing his heart into a thousand pieces, then that's what it would have to be.

"And then what, you're going to ship him off to foster care?" Clint snapped. "What do you plan to do, Stark?"

"We're moving for Peter's sake so he can get to school easier," Tony said, trying very hard to keep his cool. "And I'm not going to ship him off to foster care." That was an absolute no.

"We should come with you, Tony," Steve said in his gentle voice.

"I don't want you to, thank you very much," Tony scoffed. "Happy's coming and that's it."

"So you're just leaving your team behind? Is that it?" Clint snapped. "Some friend you are."

"Oh believe me, Barton, the last thing you are is a friend to me," Tony said icily, glaring at the archer. _You took the side of the person who murdered my parents and the person who kept it from me. You're not my friend._

Steve looked at him with an expression that Tony couldn't decipher.

Tony's eyes shifted to Bruce, who looked heartbreakingly sad. Tony had never seen him look like this.

"We should come with you," Natasha said in the same gentle tone that Steve had used when he said those exact words. "It would be better for everyone. What if something happens to you and we can't protect Peter?"

One thing he hated about Natasha.

She was always right.

Tony didn't _want_ Steve or Clint or Nat or Sam to come with him. He didn't _want _to see their backstabbing faces, even though he tolerated them better than he thought he would.__

He would miss Bruce.

He would miss Rhodey.

He knew how much Peter loved everyone.

He knew how everyone loved him, even though they hadn't been around him that much.

And if something happened, they could protect him when Tony couldn't.

That last thought was all it took for Tony to reluctantly bob his head. "Okay."

Natasha gave one of her rare smiles and Bruce's face lost its sad expression.

Rhodey stood up and walked over to Tony to carefully wrap his arms around his friend.

Before taking custody of Peter, Tony hadn't really liked hugs all that much. It wasn't like he got a lot of them anyways.

But he smiled and hugged his friend back, finding himself beginning to lose his disliking of physical affection.

-

Peter stared at the round box that held his Spider-Man suit for a long time, with his legs crossed on his bed and a million thoughts rocketing through his head.

Yeah, he missed being Spider-Man, even though it had only been two and a half weeks.

But the last time the suit was enclosed over his body, May was alive. She was alive and waiting for him to come home, like she did since she caught him wearing it with a loud _"what the FUCK?!"_

Most terrifying moment of Peter's life right there.

Well, until she died.

Peter convinced his kegs to work and carry him over to his closet, where he stared at the box again, then his eyes drifted to his jacket and tears sprung into them abruptly, which he so desperately tried to erase.

Raising his shaky arms above his head, Peter slid the box off the shelf and into his arms in one smooth motion and carried it back to his bed.

Placing it atop his dull blue bedspread, Peter eased the top of the box off, and nearly sobbed when he saw the red and blue suit laying before him. He reached into the box and brushed his fingers along the fabric, tracing the details carefully, like it was made of glass.

Two and a half weeks.

That was longer than he'd ever have imagined not being Spider-Man.

Slowly, as if it would shatter, the teenager slipped his fingers under the fabric and lifted the suit from its place in the box, straight onto his lap. The mask was lying underneath the body part. Peter dragged the mask out and contemplated putting it on, just to talk to Karen again.

And so he did, pulling it over his head.

The blue holographic icons lit up and Karen's voice quickly filled his ears. "Hello, Peter. It has been a while since we've spoken."

"Hey, Karen," Peter said, almost breathlessly. "Yeah, it has. I missed you."

Peter didn't have time to whip the mask off before Tony was walking through the doorway. "Hey, kid, do you wanna go work in the- what the fuck are you doing?"

"Duuuhhh," Peter said, grasping at the top of his mask and ripping it off his head, causing a couple curls to fall in his face. "I was- um . . . well, I was . . ."

"Were you doing to go out as Spider-Man?"

"I- I just thought about you know looking at the suit again," Peter sputtered. "I wasn't- I wasn't going to like- I wasn't gonna-"

"It's okay, kid," Tony said.

For some reason he looked kind of sad.

"You alright?" Peter asked.

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, of course I'm fine. The others are coming back to the tower with us is all."

"And- and that upsets you?"

Tony sighed and sat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Like I said, I don't want to see Steve, but I'm doing it anyway."

"What made you change your mind?" Peter shuffled a little closer.

"Just something Nat said," Tony said. "It's for your best interest best interest."

Peter leaned against Tony's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his chest, feeling touched but guilty that Tony would be doing this for his best interest. "Well . . . I don't want you to be uncomfortable or- or anything, b-because I know how you feel about them and everything."

Tony sighed again and placed his hands on Peter's arms that were still encircling his chest. "They're tolerable, Pete. It's not gonna kill me. And you never know when you might need them, so it ultimately probably is for the better."

"Okay." Peter squeezed Tony tighter before letting go and starting on placing the suit back in the box. Tony watched him fold the body part of the suit into a square and drop it in the box and quickly placing the mask on top, smoothing the surface and closing the box with the lid.

"Kid, I'm not sure you should start going out again," Tony said as Peter carried the box to his closet.

Peter turned and blinked at him. "What? Why?"

"I don't want you to get hurt," Tony said.

"I go out a lot and I'm always fine."

"Yeah? Like that time with the Vulture?"

Panic coursed through Peter. He hadn't told him about the time when he got smushed by concrete rubble. "I- I didn't mean for that to happen! He was just distracting me and soon it was all falling down-"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Tony interrupted. "I was talking about the plane . . . what are you going on about?"

_Oh._

_Shit._

Peter gripped the edges of the box awkwardly while Tony just watched him, waiting for him to say something.

"Peter, what happened?"

The second after sliding the box back into its place on the shelf, Peter sighed. "Something happened to me."

"Okay," Tony said. "Care to elaborate?

Peter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "W-well, it was on the night of Homecoming. I, um, was going to the dance with- with this girl I liked. Her name is Liz. And, um, I went to her house, and her dad opened the door." He took in a breath. "Her dad was the Vulture."

"Shit," Tony said.

"Yeah, I freaked out internally," Peter continued. "And- and then when he was driving us to the school, he kept- he kept asking me questions and- and I . . . oh fuck."

"You what?" Tony pushed.

"He- he found out I'm Spider-Man," Peter whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Holy shit, Peter," Tony said, standing up.

"And he drew a gun, and told me that if I interfered with his business again, he'd kill me, and everything I loved," Peter said. "He said he was giving me a chance because I saved Liz in DC. So I went to the dance, and then I left and took my homemade suit and went after him. I found his lair and then he acted so . . . _chill._ Like, it had me wondering. And he kept telling me this weird stuff, and then his wingspan came out of nowhere. It kept missing me, like it was too easy."

Peter's heart started to pound. "And I only realized what he was doing right as the cut through all the support pillars."

"Oh my god," Tony said softly.

"And then . . ." Peter moved his arm up and then jerked it down with a crashing sound coming from his mouth. He tried to joke about it, but his breathing was shallowing and his heart rate was picking up.

"Oh my god, Peter. Oh my god." Tony crossed the room. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." He yanked Peter into a gruff hug.

"I was fine," Peter said, his voice muffled against Tony's chest. "I got it off, it was fine."

"How?"

"I just . . . lifted it," Peter whispered, heart thumping.

"You lifted a couple tons of concrete?"

"Well, yeah, I had to." Peter's voice broke and he knew it was only a matter of time before the tears started. But Peter desperately wanted to keep them back. He wanted to stop crying over everything.

"Peter, I really, really don't think it's a good idea to go out as Spider-Man yet," Tony said with a sigh.

"The city needs me," Peter protested softly. "I can't just abandon it."

Tony tightened his hold. "How about we give it a little bit longer?"

Peter nodded. "Okay."

He tried his hardest to keep the tears back, eventually resorting to digging his nails into his palms even though Tony told him not to.

But it worked.

Even though he knew it would resurface soon, Peter didn't cry the entire day.

 

 

The moving to the tower would be occurring while Peter was at school, so he didn't have to worry about it.

But how could he know that school would be absolute ass?

Gym was first thing on Monday, which was nice, because both Ned and MJ were in that class.

He met them in the gym and they both gave him pleasant smiles.

"Hey, loser," MJ greeted. "How did the suspension go?"

"Oh, it was _incredible_ ," Peter said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Best three days of my _life_. Thank you so much for asking."

MJ laughed a little and Ned slung his arm around Peter's shoulders.

"Flash is a complete dick," Ned said. "He can go step on a LEGO."

Peter looked at him with mocked shock. " _Dude_. That is a fate worse than death."

MJ threw her arms up. "You're both losers."

After gym was over, Peter took a shortcut around the front of the school to get his locker with MJ, her being in Photography with him which was the following class.

Stupid Peter.

His spider sense roared for a second right has he was heading down the stairs before he was tripping over something and crashing face first to the hard cement ground. He threw out his arms to brace his fall right as MJ scrambled to try to save him from hitting the ground.

She wasn't quick enough.

Peter crashed to the ground, landing roughly on his forearms and knees, sliding along the ground briefly.

"What the _fuck?!_ " MJ shouted.

Peter craned his neck and saw that Flash and his friends were cackling away at his expense with his foot sticking out, clearly being what Peter tripped over. He sat back and inspected the wounds. A lot of the skin on his forearms was torn away, leaving angry red and beginning to bleed wounds that stung painfully. His forearms got the worst of the fall, but his knees were still stinging from the impact.

"Why would you _do that?!_ " MJ just about screamed.

"It's about time he learned his place in this world," Flash managed to say through fits of laughter. "He's a burden and doesn't deserve Tony Stark's attention."

"Oh that's where _his_ place in the world is, is it?" MJ snapped. "I swear to fucking god, Thompson."

She took one more look at Peter before turning her gaze back to Flash. "You're off Decathlon. Don't even try to argue with me."

"You can't do that!" Flash said.

"Damn right I can," MJ shot back before she went down the stairs and started to help Peter to his feet. He was so intrigued with her yelling at Flash that he momentarily forgot about the burning pain in his arms.

It wasn't the pain that made tears spring into his eyes.

It was what Flash said.

_Burden._

_Doesn't deserve Tony Stark's attention._

"Let's get you to the nurse," MJ said softly, wrapping her arm around Peter's middle and leading him towards the doors, flipping off Flash in the process.

Peter was trying immensely hard not to cry, the weight of the unshed tears making his throat hurt.

"Can we- can we not go to the nurse please?" Peter said.

"Your arms look really bad," MJ said bluntly. "Are you sure?"

Peter nodded and bit down hard on his lip.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she offered and Peter just about sobbed.

"Can we . . . um, go around to the back of the school?" Peter suggested. He did not want to go to class but he also certainly did not want to call Tony and have him come get him. He just needed to catch his breath and then he'd be fine.

MJ nodded and soon they were around back, on the bleachers by the football field.

"Thank you," Peter whispered, knowing that if he raised his voice any higher it'd break and he'd cry.

"That was such a fucked up thing to do," MJ said. "I can't believe him."

Peter couldn't respond. He was concentrating so hard on not crying that he didn't feel MJ's arm come around his shoulders until about five seconds after she performed the action. He almost flinched at the sudden gesture of affection coming from her.

"Peter?"

He didn't turn to look at her.

"Peter, are you alright?"

"What do you think?" Peter whispered.

"Is it him tripping you or what he said?"

"What he said," Peter responded, his voice breaking and it caused two tears to slide down his face, which he quickly swiped at. He'd never cried in front of MJ before and had never planned on it. He'd hardly even cried in front of Ned, but there were a few occasions like Ben's death or when his old dog Tessa died.

MJ bounced her foot for a second. "Hey, do you want a hug?"  
  
Biting his lip, Peter nodded his head, and MJ drew Peter into a hug. She was surprisingly good at this whole comforting thing. Peter couldn't help the small sob that escaped as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"You can cry, Peter," she said. "It's okay to cry about things like this."

Those words seemed to trigger something, because Peter started to sob against his friend while she held him tight. He was embarrassed that he was breaking down like this in front of her, but he knew she wouldn't judge so he just gave up and let the floodgates loose.

"You don't deserve what you're going through," MJ said softly. "Flash is being an absolute fuckwad and in no way do I think you're a burden or think you don't deserve Tony Stark's affection. You're a really, really good person, okay?"

Fuck, he loved her.

"Okay?" she repeated.

"Okay," Peter whispered, his voice coming out strangled.

After a long period of time, Peter removed his face from MJ's shoulder and brought his hands across it to remove any tears with MJ rubbing up and down on his back.

"I think you should do clean up your cuts now," MJ suggested.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry about this."

"It's in no way a problem," MJ said, helping Peter off the bleachers towards the school.

Once Peter finished rinsing off his arms and dabbing at them with a paper towel, he knew there was no way he was making it to Photography, so he went to get water from the fountain.

His arms still stung a lot, but Peter had endured worse pain.

Once lunch rolled around, Peter went to go find Ned and MJ in the cafeteria.

The rest of school was uneventful.

Peter had gotten a lot of empathy from Ned during lunch and a sympathetic smile from MJ.

"He's a dick, oh my god," Ned had said angrily.

Peter got a text from Tony at 2:40.

**Tony/ hey kiddo I'm in the parking lot**

**Peter/ cool thx**

Once school ended, Peter walked to the parking lot to find Tony's car, which wasn't hard to find. He stopped when he remembered his arms, and fished around in his backpack to find his hoodie to cover them.

Tony didn't suspect anything the entire drive to the tower.

Peter felt awful keeping this from Tony.

But he didn't want to be a burden.

So he didn't say anything, despite his arms screaming in protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave a review, they make my day <3


	9. That You Are Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tells Tony about his encounter with Flash and consoles one of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endgame TV Spot. AWESOME.

The kid seemed off.

He didn't have nearly as much energy as Tony expected he would once they reached the tower.

Tony watched him start organizing his room from the doorway for a little while. Every time Peter raised his arms above his head, he winced.

Did he hurt himself?

"Hey," Tony said, stepping into the room.

Peter looked up from the box he was opening and smiled, but it seemed forced. "Hey."

"Look good in here," Tony said.

Peter smiled again. "Thanks."

Awkward silence.

"So." Tony sat down on Peter's bed. "What's going on?"

"Hm?"

"Come on, I know something's up," Tony said. "You've been off since I picked you up and you're making moving your arms look painful. What's going on?" About a billion horrible scenarios went through Tony's head.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," Peter said, forcing another smile. "Really."

Tony sighed. "Let me see your arms."

Peter's eyes widened. "What? Why? I'm fine."

"The fact that you're resisting like a dog who doesn't want to go out in the rain doesn't help your case. Up with your sleeves."

"Tony, I'm fine," Peter insisted, working on opening a box.

" _Peter._ "

The kid froze and his eyes widened even more.

"Let me see your arms."

Peter slowly brought his shaky hand to the edge of his sleeve and lifted it. His forearm was raw and red where the skin had been torn away and some parts were scabbing over. It look very painful. It looked like someone had _done this to him._ The thought alone made anger boil in Tony's veins.

"Jesus Christ," Tony muttered, grabbing Peter's shoulder and leading him to the bathroom where he rummaged around in the cabinet above the sink. He made contact with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls and brought them both down on the counter.

"I'm okay, really," Peter said as Tony wet a cotton ball.

The man ignored him and gently brought the ball across his wound.

Peter winced. "Ow."

Tony looked up and saw his eyes welling up and just about threw himself out a window. "Sorry."

Peter watched Tony clean up his arms and poke around in the cabinet again for band-aids.

Tony gently smoothed a couple butterfly ones over the sections of Peter's arm. "Other one please?"

Peter drew up his sleeve and revealed the same form of cut on his other arm, and Tony repeated the process, finishing with smoothing out the butterfly band-aid.

"What happened?" Tony asked, placing his hands softly on Peter's shoulders.

"I just fell, it's fine," Peter said, waving his hand. "I swear, that's it."

_Oh, kid._

Tony sighed. "Never play poker. You're a horrible liar. Who did this to you?"

"S-stop freaking out. I-I just fell," Peter sputtered, his eyes welling up again.

Tony closed his arms around Peter's trembling figure. "Peter. Please, tell me the truth."

"I-it's just this guy was being a dick and I tripped over his foot and fell," Peter said quietly. "I'm fine."

"You're about to cry, kid, you're not 'fine'."

Tony felt a warm wet drop sink into his shirt and his heart shattered. "What was he doing?"

"W-when I fell, he- he said that- that- that I was burden to you, and- and that I didn't deserve your attention," Peter said, starting to cry.

_That motherfucking asshole._

Tony wondered if he could find a way to punch that kid without getting into trouble.

"What happened after that?"

"MJ helped me out," Peter said. Tony raised his eyebrows at her name. "I was crying like an idiot and she just- she just let me cry against her."

"That's good," Tony said, holding Peter at arm's length before wiping some of his tears away. "That kid was being a complete asshole. You're not a burden to me, okay? I'd never use those words to describe you, ever."

"Thanks," Peter whispered. "For- for everything."

"Of course, kiddo," Tony said, taking him in for a hug again. He sighed before saying, "Will you tell me who it was?"

Peter tensed up. "N-no, if that's okay."

"Why?"

"Because . . . don't take this the wrong way but I don't want you to do something about it."

Ouch.

"What do you mean?"

"I- I just have a feeling that you'll do something and- and I can handle it, it's fine."

"Alright," Tony conceded, patting Peter's back. "Just let me know if you need me to have all hell rained down on him."  
  
A breathless chuckle came from Peter. "I will do that."  
  
-  
  
MJ was abnormally and uncharacteristically quiet during school.  
  
"MJ, you good?" Peter asked across the lunch table.  
  
MJ shrugged. "Sure."  
  
Peter had said he was fine when he was on the verge of tears many times in his life and knew exactly how to spot it. The way her throat clenched and her hands slightly curled into fists and how she blinked a large amount of times in one second.  
  
"You're not," Peter said. Instead of his voice he heard Tony's. _You're not okay, kid._  
  
"How are your arms?" MJ said, obviously trying to avoid the subject.  
  
Peter glanced down at his hoodie clad arms. "They're fine." He sighed. "Please stop trying to change the subject. What's going on?"  
  
"It's nothing, Parker," MJ said, opening her book. "Just forget about it."  
  
_I'm fine._  
  
_I'm okay._  
  
_NO YOU'RE NOT._  
  
"You should talk about it," Peter said gently. "Talking about it helps."  
  
"Doesn't for me," MJ said. "Just makes it worse. Drop it already."  
  
"MJ, he's just trying to help," Ned chimed in.  
  
MJ slammed her fist down on the table and Peter and Ned both flinched. "I don't want your help." She angrily shoved her book in her backpack, swung it over her shoulder, and stormed off.  
  
"Jeez," Ned breathed. "What do you think could be bothering her?"  
  
"I dunno," Peter responded, debating whether or not he should go after her.  
  
He drummed his fingers on the table for a second before standing up. "I'm going after her."  
  
Ned blinked up at him. "If you're sure."  
  
"I'm not," Peter said honestly. "But it's worth a try."  
  
He found her in the library, which would surprise no one.  
  
MJ looked up from her book and scowled. "Go away, Peter."  
  
"No," Peter said firmly, dropping onto one knee in front of her. "MJ, you have to talk about it. It will help you, I promise."  
  
"My mom tried to kill herself, okay?" MJ exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oh shit._  
  
"Oh god," Peter said softly. "I'm so sorry, MJ."  
  
"She didn't follow through, not completely," MJ whispered.  
  
Peter opened his arms and MJ all but collapsed into them. He hugged her tightly, brushing his fingers through her abundant, untamed curls. "I'm so sorry."  
  
He knew she wasn't crying. MJ never cries. She never shows her emotions. They're always hiding, like her face is a mask.  
  
"Do you know why?" Peter tried.  
  
"I . . . I think I do," MJ said. She never sputters either. "I think it was about my dad."  
  
_Oh god._  
  
MJ was the one who broke free. But, tear tracks glimmered on her cheeks, which took Peter by surprise. Michelle Jones does not cry. "Thanks," she said softly, wiping them away with her fingers. "Can I be left alone now?"  
  
It hurt, and Peter felt awful for leaving her, but he found himself nodding and heading off for his next class.  
  
  
  
After school, when Peter met Tony in the car, he was both sad and empathetic and angry at the same time, the anger he wasn't even sure of.   
  
"Fuck everything," he muttered, sliding into the seat.   
  
"Agreed," Tony said casually. "But, in this particular instance about everything being fucked, what's up?"   
  
"My friend," Peter said with a sigh. "She was off today and I asked her why and then she told me . . . she told me her mom tried to kill herself."   
  
"Jeez," Tony breathed. "That's intense."   
  
"She was crying, Tony. She _never cries._ Ever."   
  
"Suicide is a huge deal," Tony said.   
  
"I want to punch something," Peter said.   
  
"Well save that for training."   
  
Peter turned Tony's way. "Training?"   
  
"You are going to have training with Nat and Steve every second day from now on."   
  
"Nat . . . like Black Widow?"   
  
Tony snorted. "No, Wolf Spider."   
  
"That's - that's - that's -" Peter sputtered, trying to pull together a sentence. "Training with Captain America and Black Widow?"   
  
"Uh huh." Tony shifted the car into reverse.   
  
"Holy shit."   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm really not happy with this chapter. I rewrote it like three times. I hope you guys do though. Sorry if it's bad.


	10. Forever, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter opens up about his emotions as well as his past.

Peter called MJ after getting home.

"Hello?"

"Hey, MJ," he said, a little nervously. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," she said neutrally. There was a beat of silence. "Try to forget about what happened today. You caught me with my guard down."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, but just don't ever bring it up again," MJ said. "I don't like touchy-feely stuff."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Peter said softly.

"I know," MJ said. "Thanks."

"I'm . . . I'm sorry about your mom," Peter said and almost immediately wanted to slam his face into a nearly wall.

MJ sighed. "Thanks, I guess."

Another beat of silence.

"I'm gonna do homework now," MJ announced. "Bye, Parker. Remember we have a Decathlon meeting tomorrow at lunch."

"Okay, bye, MJ," Peter said and MJ hung up right after. He stared at his phone until the screen went dark. He didn't particularly mind that MJ was upset and therefore she was being a little more blunt and rude then she usually was. When he was upset, it was more like, snap at everyone and then break down crying, which he did not enjoy doing.

"Peter, Boss has requested you come down to the training room to start," FRIDAY said after a minute.

Peter eagerly bounced off his bed and sprinted down to the elevator after yelling, "Thanks, FRI!"

He could not wipe the embarrassingly wide smile off his face when he entered the training room. Tony, Steve, and Natasha were already there. Peter's heart just about imploded.

"Hi, Peter," Steve said with a smile.

"H-hi," Peter responded. It had been two and a half weeks and he still got insanely nervous around Steve.

"So, kiddo," Tony said, slinging an arm around Peter's shoulders. "This is Mr. United States and The Original Spider."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Hi."

"They know you're Spider-Man, by the way," Tony said flatly. "Sorry if you didn't want that."

"It's fine," Peter said. He honestly didn't care.

"I can't believe Spider-Man is a teenager," Natasha said.

"I get that a lot," Peter said and then immediately regretted it. Tony looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Um, Ned knows. And May . . . um, knew."

"Dear god," Tony muttered. "Whatever. Steve, Nat, nothing that will possibly kill him."

"Roger that," Natasha said with a mock salute.

"Ha, get it?" Peter said and everyone just stared at him. Peter shrunk a little. "Because, um, his last name is Rogers, and you know, Roger that? Puns?"

Tony chuckled and removed his arm from Peter's shoulders. "Anything you think they should know?"

"I have this weird sense that lets me know when danger is coming," Peter said. "I can stick to stuff and I can heal really fast."

Steve nodded. "Okay, good to know. Do you want to start now?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Peter found himself very much enjoying his training with Steve and Natasha, having it every second day.

But it was _tiring_.

"Can I just . . ." Peter said, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath during a training session about a week after they had started. "Just give me a minute."

"Peter, I don't think you'd be saying that to an alien that was currently trying to rip your organs out," Natasha deadpanned.

Tony snorted from the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Do aliens actually try to do that?" Peter said, looking up, genuinely curious.

"It's an example, you doof," Tony said with a laugh. "In my experience, that's never happened."

Peter jumped back onto the balls of his feet. "Okay, I'm good to go."

Before he even finished talking, his feet were swept out from beneath him in a terrifyingly fast movement by Natasha, and he landed hard on his back, driving the wind out of his lungs.

When the sky had grown dark and Peter headed to his room, exhausted, and flopped on his bed, he checked the date on his phone. November 27th. Damn, time was going by really fast.

Then it dawned on him that he hadn't thought about May in a while.

A huge burst of shame exploded in his chest.

She had hardly been gone for a month and he wasn't thinking about her.

Peter pressed his hand hard over his mouth and two tears seared down his face, sliding over his hand. He felt like he betrayed her. He was even feeling sort of _happy_ recently. How dare he be happy when she's gone?

While all the horrible memories went through his head, he froze up when he remembered his babysitter.

And all sorts of other horrible memories came to him for the first time in a long time.

Sobbing soundlessly into his hand, Peter slowly sank down into his bed, pulling a throw blanket over his shaking body.

-

"Boss?" FRIDAY's voice piped up. "Peter is currently in distress."

"Thank you," Tony said, running to the elevator.

Once the elevator reached the designated floor, Tony ran down the hall to Peter's room, where he found the kid crying silently and shaking on his bed, with a hand shoved over his mouth to keep any noises in.

Tony's heart sank when he realized Peter didn't want anyone to know he was like this.

"Peter?"

Peter opened his eyes a little bit and shut them again after a second.

"Peter, hey, buddy, what's up?" Tony crossed the room and sat down next to Peter. He gently pried his fingers away from his face and brushed a thumb across his cheek. "C'mere, kid."

He sat up and fell into Tony's arms. "What's going on, kiddo?"

"Just . . . just stuff," Peter sniveled, encircling his arms around Tony's torso. "I- I haven't thought about May in a while . . . and I've even been kind of _happy_ and I shouldn't be because she's gone and now I'm forgetting her."

"Jesus, kid, you're not forgetting her," Tony said. "You never forget your parents. Ever." He'd had mental battles about this himself.

When Howard and Maria died, Tony was not in a good place. He cursed himself for feeling happy. He couldn't be happy. They were _gone._

"I don't deserve to be happy," Peter whispered.

"Stop it with that. You're the one person who really deserves it. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. You can't be sad that you've been doing better recently." Tony sighed. "Peter, just because you've been getting better doesn't mean you're betraying May."

Peter just bit his lip to that.

"Just know that if you don't think you're worth anything to anyone, I can damn well tell you you're worth a hell of a lot to me," Tony said, completely honest.

"Y-you're worth a hell of a lot to me too," Peter whispered and Tony tightened his arms around Peter. "Th-thank you."

Peter took a shaky breath in. "Mr. Stark?"

"It's Tony," he corrected. "And yeah?"

"S-sorry," Peter said. "I- I want to tell you something."

"O-kay," Tony said and a thousand horrible thoughts when through his head.

"N-no one knows this," Peter added in a whisper. "I don't know. I was kind of thinking about it today."

"Go on," Tony said.

"I- I had a babysitter once," Peter began in a whisper. "You know, like- like any kid does."

Tony nodded. "Alright."

"He- he wasn't the type of babysitter who . . . who sets a good example I guess," Peter continued in the same soft voice. "Um, he always called me Einstein because he said I was really smart. One- one time when we were together at my apartment, this was before Ben died, he was looking through his magazine and- and- and then he showed me it."

Peter gritted his teeth as a sob ripped through him. "T-tony, the magazine wasn't a sport magazine or anything like that. The- the pictures . . . they weren't PG. And then . . . a little while after that, he did something related to them and . . . um, do you think you can fill in the details?"

Tony's heart dropped in his chest when it clicked. "Oh my god, _Peter._ " That was the closest Tony had been to crying for a very, very long time. This kid, Peter Parker, one of the best people he'd ever met in his life, this sweet, innocent, bubbly kid had been taken advantage of in the worst way possible.

Peter was crying again and Tony reached out and hugged him, holding back his own tears that were burning the backs of his eyes. "Peter, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Peter whispered, sobbing. "It's over."

Oh god.

_Oh god._

Peter fell asleep after a while.

Tony gently pulled a blanket over the kid and whispered, "Night, kiddo."

When he walked out of the room, he felt like crying.

Peter had been through so much in his life and yet he managed to pull through with a smile and a laugh and a bad joke that was so bad that it was funny.

"Can something please just go right for him?" Tony whispered out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this chapter very much, but I hope you lovelies did


	11. And You Are Watching Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tony Stark finally breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This . . . I don't know what to say about this. I hope you guys like it. It's probably more serious than the other chapters?

It had been nearly two months since May died.

And Peter was coping better than he would've ever thought.

There were always nights where he would wake up crying and missing her painfully, only to be enveloped in the arms of Tony and told that everything would be okay.

It still boggled his mind that Tony had hugged him _so much_ since May died. He knew Tony didn't like hugs, and when he had asked Rhodey why, Rhodey had sighed and told the reason.

"After the Ten Rings and Afghanistan, when I found Tony, he was out of his mind delirious, stumbling along the sand with his coat over his head," Rhodey said. "I hugged him then. That was the closest I'd ever seen him to crying. I don't think he did, but he was damn close."

"And then what?" Peter asked softly.

Rhodey sighed again. "I tried to hug him after we got back to New York but he nearly tripped over himself trying to get away from me. He hadn't been experiencing gentle contact for the entire time he was captured, and even though we're best friends, and even though he knew I was not going to hurt him, he was still scared and didn't want to be touched at all. We've hugged maybe four times since then."

"Poor Tony," Peter said quietly.

"So I was really surprised when he started hugging you as much as he did," Rhodey said, finally facing Peter.

"Me too."

"I think Pepper was his only exception until you came along. You're really growing on him," Rhodey added with a smile.

Peter ducked his head the second he felt a blush coming on. "Thanks."

After the conversation, he went to go find Tony in the lab.

"I can't believe December is already here," Peter remarked, plopping next to Tony. "What is it, the fifteenth?"

"Yup," Tony said fiddling with a bolt. "Time flies."

"It does," Peter agreed. "So, what can I help with?"

"I'm actually alright for now," Tony said, almost mumbling.

That caught Peter off guard. "Oh. Okay. Um, you- you good?"

"Fine," Tony responded and that ended the conversation right there.

"Uh, 'kay, I'll, um, be in my room if you need me."

The second he was out of eyesight and earshot, Peter asked FRIDAY, "Hey FRI, what's up with Tony?"

"Boss has just been thinking about some things," FRIDAY responded. "He'll be alright."

". . . okay," Peter said hesitantly.

_Thinking about some things._

Like _what?_

-

Just one fucking day until December 16th.

Tony had gotten zero sleep and was running on coffee and stress, which was probably not the best combo.

He felt like a complete dick when he told Peter to leave, but the words were out before he was even close to stopping them. Rhodey knew to leave him alone around this time, and one time hugged Tony. Tears were burning his eyes the entire time, but not once did his facade falter nor did the tears fall.

When he tried to go to sleep the night of the fifteenth, the video that that asshole Zemo played kept shooting through his mind and sending a pain in his temples. This would be the first December 16th with Steve since Siberia. The one who _lied to him for years._

Just the thought made Tony want to throw something across the room.

He resorted to mindlessly working on a suit as time ticked by painfully slowly. His eyes were heavy and his body needed sleep, but the 48 hours of being awake were normal for this time of year.

It had been so long since Howard and Maria died, and yet he still couldn't sleep every time.

When the clock hit 12:00 am, Tony gripped his hand into a fist so tight it caused pain and his breathing started to shallow and his heart rate picked up a little bit.

"Boss, you appear to be experiencing a panic attack," FRIDAY said in a low voice.

"I'm alright," Tony muttered, taking a couple deep breaths to help calm himself down.

"Do you want me to get anyone for you?"

"No," Tony almost snapped. "I'm fine." He paused. "But can you dim the lights by 70%?"

"Of course, Boss."

A sigh of relief flooded over him as the dim light eased his headache little by little.

Once the panic attack subsided, Tony continued on the suit until 7:00 am when the stress and tiredness _really_ started to kick in. He kept trying to calm himself down but the panic wouldn't go away. The probable reason it was so bad this time was because Steve was in the compound.

"Fuck," Tony muttered, dropping his face into his hands. "Fuck it all."

The headache came back at around 8:00 am. Tony downed a couple Iboprofen and forced himself to continue working on the suit, even though he knew it needed no improvement at all, but he needed a distraction of any form.

Not like it was working.

He video was still playing in his head, over and over and over again.

He had only seen it _once_ , and yet he somehow knew every single detail about it. The blank look in Bucky's eyes, and the terrified looks on his parents' faces. Maria crying out at Howard. Bucky clasping his hand around her throat, cutting off her oxygen and the light leaving her eyes-

"Hey, Tony."

Tony lifted his head from his hands and saw Peter closing the door behind him and hopping down the steps.

He wanted to say something but his mouth was dry.

"You good?" Peter asked cautiously, meeting Tony's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just have a dumb headache," Tony lied. "It's fine, don't worry."

"Um, I . . . I kind of have to worry, because you've been awake for, like, 70 hours or something?"

_. . . FRIDAY you damn snitch._

Tony just sighed to that.

"What's going on with you?" Peter asked, sitting softly next to Tony. He reached out to put his hand on Tony's shoulder, but he was flinching away before he could stop himself. "Tony?"

Tony's eyes became suspiciously wet.

"Tony?" Peter repeated. "Let me help you."

"No one can do anything now," Tony whispered, dropping his face into his hands again and his eyes burned. He needed to get out. He couldn't do this.

He couldn't do this in front of Peter.

He was supposed to be _strong_ around Peter.

Peter didn't need him to break down and fall apart.

Peter didn't need the weight of his emotional baggage.

Peter didn't need-

"I can try," Peter whispered back.

Tony looked up, vision blurring with tears, when he felt Peter get up and move around to kneel in front of him. "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"I just . . ." Tony trailed off, digging his fingernails hard into his palms, trying to keep it together. "It's just a bad day."

"Why?" Peter pushed gently.

"December 16th is the day my parents died."

Now he was really about to fall apart.

_Keep it together Stark, you fucking weak-ass basket case._

That voice sounded like his father.

"Oh god," Peter whispered. 

Peter became a blob of blue and some variations of peach and brown in Tony's vision, his eyes so filled with tears that he was begging to contain that he couldn't see.

_Howard yelling at him for crying._

_Howard slamming his fist on the table._

_Howard **raising his hand**_ \- 

_Why was he so torn apart that Howard died when he was a shitty father and he hurt him and his mother why was he breaking like this after years why did things have to be this way why-_

"I'm so sorry. I . . ." Peter took in a sharp breath. ". . . do you want a hug?"

Something snapped. 

And everything **crumbled.**

It was all too much.

Tears slipped from Tony's eyes and fell down his cheeks.

He found himself being hugged by Peter as the kid stood up, which forced Tony to stand too, and a sob escaped against his will as he wrapped his arms around the kid's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," Peter said again, rubbing up and down on Tony's back in a comforting motion. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this."

Now that he'd started, Tony couldn't seem to stop crying. All the stress and the anger and the sadness . . . it was all coming up now, since he'd bottled it away for so long. He hated that he was being weak and vulnerable like this, but when though he hated himself so much at that moment, even though he wanted so desperately to stop crying, he realized he wasn't alone.

Peter lost his parents _and_ his uncle _and_ May.

He knew exactly what this was like.

This was almost theatrical. 

The man who is supposed to be made of iron shatter when a kid who he willingly let into his life, who he thought of as his son, came to help him. The room was dark from the lights being so dimmed and Tony who had suffered from childhood . . . shit, was crying. It was like a fucking Shakespeare tragedy.

_"Why are you crying?!" Howard nearly screamed as tears trailed down Tony's face when he found out his grandma just died. "Stark men don't cry!"_

Another sob came out and Tony bit his lip to try to hold anything else back as tears continued to trail down his face.

Finally, when the tears stopped, Tony broke away and refused to meet Peter's eyes, shame and embarrassment hitting him like a freight train.

"I'm so sorry," Peter said softly as Tony looked to the side and slid his sleeve over his hand to wipe away the tears on his face.

Tony Stark never cries.

The last time he could remember crying was when he went to see Howard and Maria's grave right after Siberia. The weight of what went on with Steve and Bucky, the fact that Steve _lied to him_ for so long, the constant pain in his left arm just all finally caused him to break down crying. He had sank to his knees next to Maria's grave and cried quietly as the breeze ruffled his scarf.

The last time anyone ever saw him cry was around 2011, for this same reason. And it was Pepper.

Rhodey had never seen him cry.

Happy had never seen him cry.

Only Pepper, Jarvis, and his parents.

And now Peter.

"Thanks, kid," Tony whispered.

"Yeah, of course," Peter said with a small smile.

"This just sucks," Tony said, very much wanting to make a run to the Rockies.

"I know it does," Peter empathized. "More then you could think."

"If you want me to leave now, that's okay."

Tony was about to say yes, but then he realized he didn't want Peter to leave.

_"He was just upset, honey," Maria said, sitting down next to Tony after Howard left and a stinging red mark was on his cheek. "He didn't mean it._

"You can stay, it's fine," he managed, sitting on the work bench.

"Okay."

Peter sat down next to Tony and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Can you not tell anyone about this, please?" Tony asked in a pathetically broken voice.

"Of course," Peter said.

"It's just really humiliating."

"Oh, no, it's okay," Peter said. "I'm glad you let everything out. I'm not gonna judge you, I promise."

"Thanks," Tony said softly.

Peter smiled again. "No problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo....
> 
> I felt like having Tony be a victim of a mild form of abuse, since Howard only hit him once and it was just a slap to the cheek, would incorporate into the confusion and pain and anger he feels about his parents dying. Like obviously he's gonna be sad, but he's still mad but confused at the same time.
> 
> If that made ANY sense at all.
> 
> Isn't Peter the sweetest?
> 
> Alsooo, I'm afraid my uploading schedule, as y'all proooobably figured out on your own, is SCREWED UP. With school and piano, I don't have a lot of time to get stuff up. I'll try to get one up at least, AT LEAST, once a month. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> I hope ya liked this more serious chapter. Don't hesitate to tell me whatcha thought :)


	12. From Up Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awful day to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second Endgame trailer!! Ahh looks so good!

Peter already knew it was going to be a bad day.

First off, he had a Spanish test, which was his only bad subject, so he wasn't too thrilled about that since he forgot to study.

Also, he woke up with a pounding headache, with sharp bursts of pain spreading through his temples.

"Oh come on," Peter muttered, rolling off his bed. "Today of all days."

He resorted to digging around in the bathroom cabinet for painkillers, downed three, and got ready as per usual. "Ow, fuck," Peter said under his breath, placing his hand against his head. He hadn't had anything like this since the spider-bite. He certainly couldn't get sick since he had more white blood cells then he used to . . . right? That's how it worked?

Tony drove Peter to school. Peter tried his absolute hardest to pretend nothing was wrong. He was always like this whenever he felt unwell. When May was alive, he'd almost never tell her he wasn't feeling good. She'd usually find out herself anyway.

The headache wasn't subsiding and his metabolism burned away the painkillers before they could do anything. Peter rubbed his forehead in a grimace, staring out the window, trying to listen to Tony as he talked about some ideas for the spider suit. Tony was obviously trying to pretend nothing happened the other day, so Peter went along with it. He knew Tony was obviously embarrassed as hell about breaking down, but if Peter was honest, he was glad he did. It seemed like he had been bottling all that up for a long time and finally let it free.

"We're here," Tony said, snapping Peter out of it, as he pulled into the parking lot. "Have a good day."

"I try," Peter said with a sigh, grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Hey, kid, look at me?" Peter hung his head back and to the side. "You look a little pale. Are you alright?"

"Yup, I'm fine," Peter lied, his headache throbbing in disapproval. "Thanks for the ride." He got out and slammed the door before Tony could say anything else.

 

Turns out, he really was not fine.

Spanish was first block, and the headache had only gotten worse, and when the test was slid onto his desk, the edges of Peter's vision started to get blurry. He swallowed hard and grabbed his pencil with trembling hands and wrote his name down in the top right corner.

Blurriness not going away, Peter let his head fall into his hands. "Ow," he muttered under his breath.

"Peter?" Ned whispered from beside him. "You good?"

And then seconds later, it felt like his brain exploded.

Peter shook his head from in his hands. "Not really." _Dear fucking god, how much is this supposed to hurt?_

"Leeds, Parker," the teacher said from her desk.

"Lo siento," Peter said, trying to blink past the worst headache he ever had in his life. The bright lights in the classroom were not helping either. They made his eye sockets ache and the headache worsen and he suddenly felt sick, and with his enhanced senses it was probably a lot worse than it should have been.

Peter raised a shaky hand. "Puedo ir al bano?"

"Si."

Peter stood up from his desk which made him feel dizzy and stumbled out towards the bathroom. Either the mirror was broken or he was looking at his terrible reflection. His face was extremely pale and his eye sockets looked bruised. "Jesus," Peter muttered. The bright lights made his vision swim and he collapsed against the wall and pulled himself to a stall. He clasped his hands over his ears and knew that a sensory overload was kicking in, and with the headache and the lights, he felt worse than he had in a long time.

He didn't want to call Tony, but it kind of seemed like he had no choice. Pain tears pricked his eyes as he pulled out his phone and tapped Tony's contact.

After a couple seconds, "Hey kid, what's up?"

"I . . . I don't feel so good," Peter mumbled, massaging his forehead, as if that would take away the pain at all, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What's wrong? I'm coming."

"My head hurts and I feel really bad and the really bright lights are making me nauseous," Peter said resting his head against the wall.

"Sounds like you have a migraine. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thanks, Tony," Peter whispered and hung up. The tears in his eyes spilled over. Peter buried his face in his knees, trying to drown out the fluorescent lights beaming down at him, ten times as bright as they usually were. "Ow, ow ow ow."

After a painful twenty minutes, Peter got a text.

**Tony/ hey i'm here**

Peter almost cried in relief as he stood up and attempted to walk out the door, using the wall as support.

He did end up crying when he saw Tony standing outside his car with Happy in the driver's seat. Even crying hurt.

Tony crossed the space and yanked Peter into a hug, his dark hoodie a huge relief as Peter buried his face in his chest. "You're okay," Tony whispered. "You're alright."

"Too bright," Peter said, choking on a sob.

"Jesus, sensory overload and a migraine?" Tony gently peeled Peter off and brought him over to the back seat. Peter was about to climb in when he felt two careful arms lift him into the seat. He read somewhere that climbing up things will make you feel even worse when you had a migraine, and it seemed Tony knew this too.

Tony climbed in to the other seat and shut the door. "Happy, close the windows and turn then black and turn off all the lights, please."

A huge wave of relief came over Peter as darkness went through the car.

"Pete?" Peter looked over. "Lie down."

Peter nodded and stretched out, laying his head against Tony's lap. The man's hand came to rest on his eyes, blocking out any more light.

Sleep wasn't going to happen with the headache, so Peter just lay there in silence for twenty minutes before they arrived at the tower.

"Kid? You gotta get out now."

"It hurts," Peter whimpered.

"Just close your eyes. I can carry you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Will you stop being so damn stubborn?"

"Sorry."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut even more than before as Tony reached over to open the door. Even through closed lids, the light hurt. Tony gently pulled Peter into his arms and lifted him from the seat.

He felt a soft swaying motion before they were in the tower and Tony said something to FRIDAY about dimming the lights.

"I'm gonna put you down, okay?"

Peter nodded and his feet touched the floor a second later. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders and lead him to the elevator and up to his room, where he flopped down onto his bed.

Tony turned off every light before sitting on the edge of Peter's bed. "You feeling better, bud?"

"A little," Peter whispered. "Thanks."

"Migraines suck," Tony empathized, patting Peter's shoulder twice. "It should be gone in a little bit."

"Nice," Peter said, rolling over.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling good?" Tony asked after sighing.

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. I thought it would be fine."

"Peter, with your spider-ness, you are way less prone to things like this," Tony said. "If this happens again, you better tell me."

Peter opened his eyes when he felt his blanket being pulled over his body. "Are you tucking me in?"

"You got a problem with that, punk?"

Peter shook his head with a tiny smile.

Tony rubbed up and down on Peter's arm before whispering, "Try to get some rest, kiddo."

"Always do," Peter mumbled, closing his eyes.

 

A few hours later, Peter woke up and felt almost completely fine.

He sighed, rolled over, and grabbed his phone, which was filled with a couple texts from Ned and MJ.

**Ned/ hey you okay**

**MJ/ you good? saw you leave in spanish**

**Ned/ did you get sick or sumthin?**

Peter sighed.

**Peter/ just got a migraine and had to leave**

**Ned/ ah okay. hope you feel better :)**

**Peter/ thx man**

Right then, a notification popped up on his phone.

**_Where Is Spider-Man?_ **

Peter sat straight up and just about choked. He opened the notification and read the article.

_**Local Queens crime-fighter Spider-Man has been reported missing as there has not been a sight of him for three months. Crime rate in Queens has risen drastically. Where is Spider-Man and will he come back?** _

Peter's breathing labored. _Oh god. Oh no._

He hadn't even thought about Spider-Man for _months._ How could he forget about it? The city needed him and he just went MIA.

Scrambling to get out of bed, Peter grabbed the box that held his Spider-Man suit. There was a little bit of dust on the top of the box, which Peter brushed off with his fingers. He opened the box and yanked the suit out of the box.

He only stared at it for about a minute.

The last time he was Spider-Man was when May was still alive.

Peter shook his head, trying to get his emotions intact, and quickly found himself standing in front of the mirror wearing the suit from head to toe.

"Hey Karen," Peter said.

"Peter! It's been a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

He was fiddling with a web cartridge right as he heard it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Peter spun around. "Oh. Hey."

"Don't 'oh hey' me," Tony snapped. "What the hell are you doing in that?"

"I have to do it," Peter said. "Please. The city needs me."

"Peter, you could get hurt," Tony said.

"I'll be fine. Queens's crime rate went up and it's because of my absense," Peter said softly. "I need to go out and help."

Tony sighed. "I'm sorry, but that's not going to happen just yet. Maybe if you had _talked to me_ before just deciding to leave, we couldn't worked something out."

"If you don't let me go, I'll . . ." What Peter said next, he regretted immediately. "I'll tell everyone that you cried into my shoulder the other day about your parents."

Rage and sadness mixed together filled Tony's eyes. "Are you _blackmailing_ me?"

Peter just looked away. "I have to do this."

"The hell you aren't," Tony snapped. "FRIDAY, Peter is not allowed to leave the compound under any circumstances."

"You can't do that!" Peter exclaimed.

"I'm responsible for you," Tony said. "I need to make sure you're okay."

"You're not my dad!"

_. . . oh fuck._

Tony stared at him for a solid five seconds, right in the eye.

"Bye," Tony said, walking out and slamming the door.

_Oh god. Oh god. I said that._

Peter slowly pulled off his mask. Tears stung his eyes. _I said that._

He sank to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest.

Tony had been nothing but amazing to him. He held him every time he cried and talked him down from a panic attack and was there for him when no one else was, and yet he went and said that.

Peter pressed his face against his knees and cried silently for the rest of the evening.

-

 _Fuck,_ that hurt.

That really hurt.

Tony resorted to mindlessly working on the nano-tech suit be had started on, but couldn't concentrate.

Because that hurt.

"FRIDAY, what is Peter doing now?" Tony asked with a sigh after about an hour.

"Mr. Parker is currently in a state of immense sadness and guilt," FRIDAY said, almost sadly. "He's been like this since you left."

Tony nodded. "Thanks, FRI."

He sighed down at the nano-tech.

He was still pissed off.

But it was time to be the adult and go talk to Peter.

He walked to the elevator and went up to Peter's room.

Softly knocking on the door, Tony said quietly, "Pete?"

When there wasn't a response, Tony cracked the door open.

Peter was curled up in his bed on his side, facing away from Tony. The spider-suit was lying on a chair.

"Pete?" Tony tried again.

Peter turned his head for a second. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was tear-stained and swollen from crying. The second he laid eyes on Tony, fresh tears spilled over his eyes.

Tony smiled sadly. "C'mere, kiddo."

Peter sniffled, got up, and walked towards Tony, falling into his arms. "I'm sorry," Peter whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Tony tightly embraced the kid. "It's alright."

"I'm s-so stupid," Peter sniveled.

"Peter, what you said wasn't cool, at all," Tony said softly. "And I don't ever want to hear you talk to me like that again."

"I know, I'm so sorry," Peter said, his voice hitching in a sob. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"It's all good," Tony said gently, still holding him. "You're all good."

"I didn't mean what I said about t-telling everyone about that," Peter whispered. "I wouldn't do that."

"It's okay, Peter."

Peter choked on a sob again and Tony tightened his hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I haven't had that much time and ideas for this story. I wasn't too happy with this chapter, but I mean it was alright.
> 
> And I know you're probably like "Sarah, why do you say you don't have the time for this when you uploaded a 7 part story just a couple weeks ago?"
> 
> I'm just fresh out of material, I guess. I'll probably come up with some stuff later. Also I've been having some person issues that I need to fix. 
> 
> So sorry, lol, I love you guys <3
> 
> Also shoutout to anyone who can guess the song I have been using for the chapter names in my next chapter!


	13. Fly Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something horrible happens to one of Peter's best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed my name! Parkeratheart coming at y'all now! Also I have an Instagram. @parker_at_heart

_"Call from **MJ**_ _,"_ Peter's phone blared at him as he was looking through Instagram. 

"Hey MJ," Peter said, answering.

"Peter." Her voice sounded breathless and distraught and it made Peter sit up straight in his bed.

"MJ? What's going on?"

"It's Ned," she said, her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Something happened to him."

Peter's heart rate picked up extremely fast. "What? What happened?"

"He- he's hurt, Peter," MJ said. "Please come to the hospital.  _Please._ "

"I'm coming," Peter said, leaping out of his bed. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

"I love you, bye."

About a billion horrible images went through Peter's head. 

_Ned dying._

_Ned was dying._

_Oh god, Ned was dying._

"FRIDAY, tell Tony to meet me in the garage," Peter exclaimed.

"Sure thing, Peter."

Peter wriggled on his running shoes and grabbed a jacket from his closet before taking off and sprinting for the elevator. He nearly cried when he saw that Tony was right there where he was suppoed to be, a worried look present in his eyes.

"Kid? What's going on?" Tony asked, grabbing Peter's shoulders.

"No time, we have to go to the hospital," Peter said, unbearably panicked. "Quickly, Tony,  _please._ " 

"Okay, okay," Tony said, unlocking a white Audi. "Get in."

Peter thanked everything out there that there wasn't very much traffic on the way there.

"What happened?" Tony asked.

"N-Ned," Peter sputtered, on the verge of freaking out. "Ned's hurt. I-I don't know how but he's hurt and I need to get to him."

Tony nodded and sped up as fast as legally possible. 

_Ned is dying._

_It's happening all over again._

_May. Ned._

_Oh **god.**_

Tears were already streaming down Peter's face by the time he got into the hospital and thanked Tony for the ride, and they only worsened when he saw MJ pacing back and forth in the waiting room. The second she saw him, she sprinted at him and they both collided in a hug. 

"Is Ned okay?" Peter managed to ask around the tears, squeezing MJ like she was about to get hurt too.

MJ shook her head. "They wouldn't tell me much, but they did say that he got attacked walking to Delmar's."

_Oh god._

**_Oh god._ **

Peter broke free and wiped his face down, his heart pounding in his ears and breathing shallowed. MJ looked almost as terrified as he did. "Did they say what happened?"

MJ bit her lip and looked down. "No, this woman was trying to hold me back from getting in there."

Memories from October cam spiraling into Peter's head all at once. "Oh my god," Peter whispered. "Oh my god."

_Ned bleeding out._

_Ned is dying._

_Ned dying._

_Dying._

He subconsciously reached out and latched his hand around the sleeve of MJ's jacket, for some reason absolutely terrified that this was going to happen to her too. "Peter," she said softly, her eyes flicking to his hand. She reached out and hugged him again and Peter closed his eyes and relished this one. 

Ned's parents arrived about ten minutes later. 

Peter and MJ watched them talk to the nurse, nod, and walk into the waiting room. 

"Hey," Peter said weakly. "How is he?"

Mrs. Leeds looked like she was trying immensely hard to not lose her shit. "He was . . . he was sh-shot in the shoulder."

Peter's stomach dropped to the floor. "Wh-what?" MJ looked over at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Oh my god, is he going to be okay?"

"They think so," Mr. Leeds said in a soft tone. 

_This isn't like last time._

_This isn't like May._

_Ned's going to be fine._

"I'm sorry," MJ said.

"Thanks," Mrs. Leeds said, taking a seat.

Everyone was silent.

Peter took a lot of deep breaths to calm himself down, not wanting to have a panic attack. 

When the nurse came out to talk to them, Peter just about stopped breathing.

"How is he?" Mr. Leeds asked.

"They got the bullet out," the nurse said and Peter remembered to breath again. "He's still under intensive care, but when he's moved to his own room, we'll let you know." His eyes moved between Peter and MJ. "You should probably go home and try to get some rest."

Peter nodded and hung his head as tears reentered his eyes. MJ placed her hand on his shoulder gently. 

He tuned out the rest of the world, and even though he knew Ned was going to be alright, he still wanted to cry.

When he called Tony, and headed out to find the car, tears were falling before he could stop them. Tony was parked in the corner, leaning against the car, and his eyes softened when they laid eyes on Peter. 

"C'mere," Tony said, opening his arms in a suggestive hug.

Peter sniveled and all but collapsed into them. "He's gonna be alright," he choked out.

"That's good," Tony said, holding Peter tight. 

"He- he was shot," Peter said, his voice hitching in a sob.

Tony shushed him. "And he'll be alright."

"I-I feel so useless," Peter whispered.

"Hey," Tony said gently. "You're being an amazing friend for him right now. There's nothing you could've done."

Peter choked on a sob and hugged Tony tighter, the billionaire reciprocating. 

 

Ned ended up being moved to his own room in a couple of days, and Peter went to go see him the earliest time possible. 

He was awake. There were tubes and things all along his hands and arms and he was clad with a hospital gown and something covering where the bullet wound was.

And Peter was crying.

"Hey," Ned said in a raspy voice, tears falling from his eyes.

"Hey," Peter returned, sitting next to him. "How- how are you feeling?"

"Fine, considering the circumstances," Ned said. 

A sob broke free and Peter brushed the tears off his face as soon as they fell, but more kept coming. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry about anything," Ned said with a snivel.

"I-I just feel like such a horrible friend," Peter said, his voice hitching in sobs.

"You're not a horrible friend," Ned said, beginning to cry himself. "God I wish I could hug you."

That only made Peter's tears worsen, and he really wanted to stop crying and talk about something else. 

"You're probably wondering how this happened," Ned said, trying to force his tears to come to a stop. Peter nodded and wiped at more tears. "I was mugged walking to Delmar's. Woo hoo. Fun. I don't really remember getting shot that much, but I remember just being like,  _don't die because you still have to build the TIE Fighter with Peter and meet Tony Stark._ "

That was his reasoning.

And it only made Peter cry harder. 

"We should talk about something else," Ned suggested. 

"When's MJ coming?" Peter managed to ask.

"I dunno, some time today though," Ned said. "Did she cry? Did her emotional wall finally collapse?"

Peter had to snicker at that. "Nah, she was keeping it together."

"Dammit," Ned said. "You think you mean something to someone and then."

"She was really scared though," Peter said, wiping away the new tears on his face. "We both were."

"Oh hell yeah, I do mean something to her."

Peter nodded with a forced smile, his vision still blurred with tears. 

"So how has it been living with the Avengers?" Ned asked casually, shifting in the hospital bed.

"It's been pretty good," Peter answered, his crying finally stopping. "Tony's been really good to me."

"Awesome," Ned said. "That's so cool. What even is your life?"

Peter smiled. "Crazy is what it is."

-

"Full house!" Clint exclaimed, practically throwing the cards in his hand on the table.

Tony raised a brow. "That's all you got?" He placed his cards down, revealing a straight flush in spades.

"Who dealt this crap," Natasha muttered, laying her single pair. 

Tony looked over at Peter. "Well?"

Peter just sighed and laid his measly double pair. "I think I take all."

Tony dramatically reached over and grabbed the pile of chips lying in the center. "Well, you all are fucked."

" _Tony,_ there are  _children_ present," Clint said, gesturing to Peter. 

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "He deals with me swearing all the time. He's  _fine._ "

Peter laughed and grabbed the pile of cards and started to shuffle them. "Alright, let's do Five Card Stud, nothing's wild, two draws of three."

"So what's the plan for Christmas?" Clint asked, watching Peter deal the cards out. "It's in a couple days."

Tony held back a sigh.

He hadn't really liked Christmas since it was so close to December 16th, and it sort of stressed him out.

The last time he could remember having a really good Christmas was before Ultron and the Accords, around 2014. When it was the team and Happy and Pepper, having a good time and not worrying about everything. That was also the year Tony bought Pepper a gold pendant with a picture of both of them that caused her to tear up and give him one of the best hugs he'd ever had in his life. 

Now that title might have to be replaced by the one Peter gave him when he broke down.

"We should watch movies and stuff," Peter suggested. "That's usually pretty fun."

Clint shrugged. "Sure."

"Sure," Natasha said, gathering her cards. 

"I'm down," Tony said. 

Peter smiled. "Yay." He looked down at the cards in his hands and then at Natasha. "Nat, it's your bid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to give a quick shoutout to Heckyheck_Icravedeath here. She's very lovely and a fan of my works. We met through Instagram. Go read her stuff :) 
> 
> Also I'd really like to get some suggestions and requests for this fic, so don't be shy to DM me on my Instagram and request some stuff <3


	14. To Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getcha jingle bells out, it's Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I don't know what's going on with that summary lmao why am I like this.
> 
> This is a long boy, lol be prepared

"Boss, Peter is currently having a nightmare," FRIDAY said in a quiet voice. "He's in a state of distress and fear."

Tony was about to get up, to hug him, to tell him everything would be alright, but paused halfway. He wanted to wait a minute to see if Peter would come to him on his own terms. Tony glanced at the clock on his nightstand.  _1:57 am._

Damn. Merry Christmas.

Tony waited a minute or so and was about to get up when . . .

"Tony?" 

Tony couldn't help but smile at that. "Yep?"

"I- I had a nightmare," Peter said in a soft tone, hovering in the doorway.

"It's okay, kid, come here." Tony patted the spot next to him on the king sized bed and Peter, head hanging, shuffled over and climbed into the bed, sliding under the covers. Tony shifted to lay on his other side to face him. "What did you dream about?"

"The usual," Peter whispered. "It's just different this time."

"Why is it different?"

"B-because it's Christmas, and Christmas was May's favourite holiday," Peter said and Tony already knew he was on the verge of tears. "And- and it's hard."

"God, Pete." Tony reached over and tugged Peter into his chest and slid his other arm under Peter's shoulders. Peter immediately sunk into the embrace, resting his head against where the arc reactor once was. "I'm glad you came to me."

A snivel.

"It's- it's been months," Peter whispered. "And I'm still screwed up."

"We're all a little screwed up," Tony said gently. "Everyone in this damn compound has had bad nights and PTSD at come point. It comes with being a superhero. I mean, you saw me the other day. And it has been decades since my parents died. A couple of months doesn't compare to the couple of decades, Pete."

"R-remember when you came to me in the hospital?" Peter asked softly.

_How could I forget?_

He'd never forget that face, with the tears and heartbroken eyes. 

"Yeah."

"I-I think that day was the worst day of my life."

"I could only imagine," Tony said. "On a scale of one to ten, how are you doing right now?"

"Like, right this second? Or overall?"

"Overall."

"I dunno . . . a six maybe?"

_A six._

_I can live with that._

"How was it when May died?" Tony pressed gently.

"A one," Peter murmered and his voice broke off in a sob.

Tony tugged Peter in closer, if that was even possible. His arm was going numb under Peter's shoulders but he didn't care. "I'm glad you're getting better." Peter was crying silently into Tony. "You're going to be alright in the end."

Peter shuddered and nodded. "What about you?"

"What do I rate life right now? Uh . . ." It was certainly only getting better, between the team coming back together and Peter. "Eight probably." If he were to think about it, the only time it would be possible to rate life a ten out of ten would be before the Accords, but even then it still wouldn't be a ten. 

"That's good," Peter said, wiping his face with his fingers, taking his tears with him. "Have- have you ever had a one? Like, you'd rate it a one?"

_Oh god here we go._

"Yes," Tony said. "I have."

"Is it- is it okay if you tell me?"

Tony sighed. "Sure, I guess. So, after the whole thing with Steve, finding out that he hid who killed my parents from me, having the Avengers torn apart, me and Pepper not being together, and the PTSD and stuff, I was not doing that great. I had Rhodey, thank god, otherwise I probably would've lost my marbles. You know what, next time I see Rhodey I'm going to hug him. Okay, anyways, and to deal with all that emotional shit, I, um, I started drinking."

Tony had to mentally tell himself to not freak out, thinking about the lowest point in his life and how recent it was. 

Peter shifted to look up into Tony's eyes. "You're okay now, right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Tony said, patting Peter's shoulder. "That stuff is over with."

"That's good," Peter muttered, snuggling in closer, yawning. 

"You gonna try to sleep now?" Tony asked quietly. 

"Do you want me to leave? I can leave, it's fine. Thanks-"

"Dear god, kid, you can stay," Tony chuckled. "Just let me move my arm so I don't have to get it amputated." Peter lifted himself up a little so Tony could move his arm to a more comfortable position and then laid back down. 

"Night, Tony," Peter murmured, his eyelids fluttering closed. 

"Merry Christmas, kiddo."

-

When Peter's eyelids opened, he instantly knew Tony was not in the bed anymore. There wasn't that warm and safe feeling that he had last night. 

Peter yawned, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He headed to his room to FaceTime Ned to see how he was doing, and got a response pretty immediately.

"Hey dude," Ned said. 

"Hey man," Peter responded, crossing his legs on his bed. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," Ned said. "MJ came to visit me last night for a second time. She gave me a present." Ned groped around on the chair next to him and held up a charcoal drawing of the three of them, the normal person and two losers. 

"Damn, she drew that?" Peter said, eyes widening. It looked fantastic.

"I know," Ned said. "I was like  _MJ you had this secret talent you and you never told me?_ "

"I have a present idea for the both of you," Peter said, instantly knowing exactly what he was going to give them.

"Ooh, a package deal?" Ned said. "I'm excited."

"You should be. It's spectacular." 

"Do you have a present for Tony Stark?" Ned asked, clearly getting excited. 

Peter blushed a little. "Yeah. I just really hope he doesn't hate it."

"Let me see!" Peter got up and rummaged through his closet, coming in contact with the box he hid Tony's gift in and held it up so the camera could pick up on it. "There is no universe where he could hate that," Ned said, smiling.

"Good," Peter breathed, shoving it back in. "I sure hope not."

"Okay, well I'll seeya later today, dude!" Ned said, throwing up two fingers in a peace sign.

"Bye man, love you."

Peter sighed as soon as the call ended. Ned was being so strong given the circumstances, not at all acting sad or upset from his position. Peter was just over the moon happy that the night in October didn't have to repeat itself. If he lost Ned . . .

After showering and getting dressed, Peter headed to the living room and was instantly greeted with everyone either sitting around talking, drinking coffee, or making breakfast. 

Tony noticed him first and smiled. "Merry Christmas, kid."

Peter smiled back and debated whether or not to go sit down with everyone.

Sam waved him over. "Come sit with us, spider-punk."

Peter laughed and sat down on the floor closest to Steve. 

"So how old are you exactly?" Natasha said, balancing her elbows on her knees, leaning forward in her chair. 

"I'm fifteen," Peter said shyly. 

"He's fifteen," Sam repeated. "Hear that Stark? Spider-punk is  _fifteen_!"

"I'm well aware," came Tony's voice from the kitchen. 

"What are you guys even making?" Clint said, craning his neck to look over at the kitchen.

"Cinnamon rolls," Wanda responded. "It was his idea."

Peter wandered over and watched them mix the stuff together. "Did you preheat the oven?"

"Fuck," Tony muttered, dropping the fork and rushing over.

Peter and Wanda just laughed. When it came time to roll it out, Tony slapped the dough and jumped when a massive  _smack_ came from the mixture of deliciousness. "Oh wait," Wanda said. "Peter, do a Christmas rap."

"I can't  _rap-_ " Wanda started playing the dough like a drum. "Uh, C-H-R-I-S to the T-M-A-S, it's Christmas." Tony was practically dying in the corner. "Getcha jingle bells out, it's Christmas. Uh, up on the house top, down through the chimney, uh, Santa Claus is coming to town! Woo!"

Someone was cackling over in the living room and when Peter looked over, Sam had his phone out video taping. 

" _Sam!"_ Peter squeaked.

"It's pure comical gold," Sam said, ending the video. 

"Whew," Tony said, getting up from when he was dying on the floor. "That was amazing." 

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back a smile. 

The cinnamon rolls ended up being pretty good.

"I think the rapping is what created these gems," Clint said, reaching for his second one. 

"Oh definitely," Tony said, nudging Peter's shoulder. 

Peter nudged Tony back. "I had to use every single brain cell to come up with those Eminem worthy lyrics."

"I think you'll have to fill Steve in on who Eminem is," Sam said, looking over at Steve, who was tapping away on his phone, completely in his own head space.

He looked up and blinked. "Hm?"

-

Everyone seemed to like their presents. 

Tony had Dum-E wrap all of them, since he couldn't do anything artistic for the life of him.

Wanda opened her small package containing a couple expensive bracelets with wide eyes and a smile, looking over and thanking Tony. Steve raised an eyebrow at the AirPods Tony got him. 

"What the hell are these?"

Peter burst out laughing. "He got you  _AirPods_? That is amazing."

Natasha ran her hand along the dull part of the knife Tony got her and gave him a smile and a nod, which was honestly more than he expected from her. Clint smirked at the arrow upgrade, and the corners of Sam's mouth quirked up when he saw the unnecessarily pricey sunglasses in his box. Bruce's face lit up when he saw he Psychology book, Vision smiled at the ring, and Tony was holding his breath as Rhodey opened his.

Rhodey gently pulled open the wrapping paper on the small box. Inside it was a watch, a damn overpriced watch, and a note. 

_Rhodey,_

_Hi. I know you keep telling me that it's not my fault, but I am so fucking sorry. You've been my best friend since the beginning, and I don't deserve you in any way. You found me when I was kidnapped, you helped me when I had that drinking problem, and you're still willing to help me even though you got hurt._

_I'm so sorry._

_~ Tony_

Tony was fidgetting with his hands until Rhodey looked up with a soft expression. "Tony . . ." he said gently, walking across the room. Tony winced at the leg braces and stood up. Rhodey pulled him into a delicate, gentle hug. "It's not your fault."

Tony didn't say anything, because anything he would've said would've been the opposite, and held the hug for a couple more seconds before breaking free. He hadn't meant to get all sappy in the note, and yet, that's what he did. 

Peter's was next. 

The kid tore off the wrapping paper and his eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of the StarkPhone. "You got me a new phone?"

"Duh, that fossil of yours makes me depressed," Tony scoffed.

"Thank you!" Peter said happily, leaning over to awkwardly wrap his arms around Tony's shoulders. They were both sitting down, so it wasn't the most amazing hug ever, but Tony laughed and hugged him back. When Peter released, he looked down sheepishly. "I- I got you something too."

He reached behind the tree and pulled out what was clearly just a folded up piece of paper. "Um, don't read it out loud please."

Tony took the paper, and started to read.

_Hi Tony,_

_It's Peter, but you knew that. I didn't have anything I could give you, so I decided on this. And I couldn't not get you anything, because you've done a lot for me. I'm a handful and I bug you sometimes, but after everything... after the amount of times I've cried or freaked out after a nightmare, you've been there._

_Every time._

_And it's only been a couple months since everything happened, and those have been some of the worst months of my life._

_But they would have been so much worse if you weren't there for me. You've held me every time I've cried, and hugged me countless times, and it means more than you could ever imagine to me. The months have been filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, but you've been there through it all._

_So, thanks._

_Love, Peter_

Tony was trying extremely hard not to start crying in front of everyone, heart swelling, and when he looked up, Peter was looking down at his lap. The room was quiet, waiting for Tony to do something.

So he tugged Peter in for a huge hug, burying his face in his curls. 

"Aweee," Sam said. Tony flipped him off, which made everyone chuckle. 

"Thank you," Tony whispered, still hugging him.

"You too," Peter responded, sinking into the embrace a little further.

-

For Ned and MJ's gift, Peter had decided to gather a bunch of photos of the three of them from his phone, give them captions, and have a heartfelt note for Ned.

After printing them out, two copies for both friends, and mounting them on paper, and writing the captions and the note, Tony drove Peter to the hospital, gift in hand.

"Hey," Ned said with a smile. His eyes flicked to the thing in Peter's hand. "What is that?"

Peter smiled and handed them to him. "Christmas gift for you and MJ."

 

_**Normal Person and 2 Losers** _

  

_The Force Awakens                                    Animal Shelter :)                                                                  Hanging with MJ's cousins_

_Decath :D                                                                                             The Last Jedi_

 

"Peter . . ." Ned said softly.

"Just read the damn note," Peter said nervously.

_Ned,_

_You've been my best friend forever, and I'm so grateful for you. You've been by my side whenever I needed you, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you got hurt. I'm glad you're okay. Thanks for being one of the best people in my life._

_\- Peter_

Ned looked up from the note. "Peter, it's . . . it's not your fault." Peter just looked down. "Come on, give me a hug."

Peter smiled and carefully wrapped his arms around his friend, avoiding where it might cause pain. 

"Thank you," Ned said. "You gotta show MJ as soon as possible."

"Yeah, we'll all hang out when you get to go home," Peter suggested. ""I just felt like you should see it first."

"That's the best fucking Christmas present I've ever had." Ned broke free from the hug. "How did Tony Stark like his present?"

Peter ducked his head. "He hugged me. I think he really liked it."

"I told you," Ned said, shoving Peter's arm. 

Peter just smiled, coming to the conclusion that despite everything, this was a pretty damn good Christmas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just found the pictures on the internet. I hope i don't get sued. They're not mine, and full credits to the original sources.  
> Force Awakens: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DiG6bLdW0AE13Cu.jpg  
> Animal Shelter: https://data.whicdn.com/images/318645358/large.jpg  
> MJ's Cousins: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Die6ROjVMAE1JLx.jpg  
> Decath: https://data.whicdn.com/images/288809054/large.jpg  
> The Last Jedi: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DoGfHDHU8AEd0nJ.jpg  
> Also these are not the actual events in which the photos were taken lol.
> 
> With all that out of the way, what didya think?
> 
> If you have any suggestions or requests, let me know on my Instagram :)


	15. Beyond The Distant Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for ;)
> 
> This one's a lil bit shorter than the last one, but I hope that's alright, since the last one was hella long. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Peter gave MJ's copy of the gift to her when the two of them hung out at Dairy Queen on the 27th.

"I have your gift," he said proudly.

MJ raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Well I got yours."

"You first."

"Nuh uh, Parker."

Peter rolled his eyes and laughed. "Alright, if you insist." He pulled out the messily wrapped concoction out of his backpack and placed it on the table, sliding it towards her.

"Alright, let's check out the competition," MJ said, shifting in her seat and Peter laughed. Her long fingers tore open the wrapping paper. She looked at the first picture for a couple seconds before moving it to the back of the pile. Rinse and repeat that until she was finished. Peter watched her facial expressions very curiously. Nothing much happened except the edges of her mouth quirking up slightly for each photo. 

She looked up once she was finished. "Wow."

"Do you like it?"

"Fuck yeah I like it," MJ said. "That's awesome. Thank you."

Peter smiled warmly. "Great. My turn."

MJ withdrew a nicely wrapped thing from her backpack, and when Peter picked it up, he was floppy and light. When he tore it open, he immediately smiled at the hoodie that read  _The #1 Loser._

"I'm touched that I'm your number one loser," Peter said, placing his hand over his chest where his heart was.

"You should be, I bought that and fabric transfer paper for that piece of art right there."

Peter smirked and folded up the hoodie. "Ned showed me what you made him."

MJ raised her eyebrows. "And?"

"How have I know you since I was microscopic and not known you do art?"

"I'm secretive," MJ said, casually plucking a french fry from Peter's stack. "Plus I don't like showing off."

"Dude!" Peter said in a high-pitched voice that MJ laughed at. "You're so good at art! Like, how the hell do you do it?"

"With my hand," Mj said, dramatically presenting her right hand.

Peter just smiled and enjoyed himself hanging out with her while the snow continued to fall. 

-

"Boss, there is an incoming call from an Isabel Connors," FRIDAY said as Tony was mindlessly making himself something to eat.

Tony sighed and picked up his phone. "This is Tony Stark."

"Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Isabel Connors, the social worker you met in October?"

Tony's heart dropped through the entire tower. 

"I'm calling in regards to Peter Parker, who you are currently holding temporary guardianship of."

"Okay," Tony said, heart pounding. "What about him?"

"Temporary guardianship lasts sixty days, and as of today, those sixty days are up," Isabel said in a mono-toned voice.

Tony hadn't thought about that in a long time.

Having Peter around had grown all too normal; seeing him every day, hugging him, thumbing away his tears, holding him after a nightmare, laughing with him. The kid had seen him _cry_ , which was something that both of them were surprised about.

"We've found Mr. Parker a permanent foster home if-"

"No, stop," Tony said firmly, interrupting her.

_Temporary._

All the hugs. All the tears. Peter needed Tony.

And Tony needed him.

_Temporary can go fucking die in a hole._

"I want to adopt him."

-

Tony was sitting in the living room when Peter got home.

"Hey," he said, kicking off his shoes. "How are you?"

"Peter," Tony said in a tone that made Peter freeze. "Can I talk to you please?"

"Um, of course. Are you alright? You're not dying, right?"

"God no," Tony said. He patted the seat on the couch next to him. "Come sit?"

Peter's heart started to pound in his chest. What was going on? Was Tony going to finally kick him out? Iron Man had finally reached his emotional capacity?

"What's up?" Peter said, his voice wavering.  _Please tell me this isn't goodbye._

_I don't want to say goodbye._

"Peter," Tony said softly, running his hand along his face. "Isabel Connors called me today."

A weight was dropped into Peter's stomach.

He hadn't forgotten that name. Or her face. Or that moment. 

Peter wanted to say something, but his mouth was dry. His heart pounded in his ears. 

"She said that there was a . . . a foster home for you, since the sixty days of temporary guardianship are over."

Tears sprung into Peter's eyes. "Is . . . is this goodbye?" he choked out, the tears spilling over instantly.

"No," Tony said quickly. "No. Peter, the last sixty days have been nothing but an emotional roller coaster. And throughout then, I think we've both grown to realize that this whole 'temporary' thing is bullshit. I think we both know that we have bonded too much to let all this go. All the laughter, all the tears, all the love. And it the last thing it took was Christmas for me to realize that all this? It's not going to leave any time soon."

Peter tried to wipe away his tears but more kept falling. "What are you saying?"

"I was going to ask you . . . if you'd let me adopt you?"

A sob broke free as Peter nodded furiously. "Y-yeah. I'd- I'd like that."

"Come here," Tony said quietly, drawing Peter into his chest. Peter sobbed and held on, a tidal wave of relief washing over him. This wasn't goodbye. He didn't have to leave. He could stay. He could  _stay._ Tony  _wanted_ him to stay. He was  _wanted._

"Thank you," Peter whispered, forcing his tears to stop. 

Tony broke free to hold Peter's face in his hands and thumb away the tears on his face. That wasn't leaving. He wasn't leaving. "You too," Tony said softly. "I'm so glad," he moved his arms to hug Peter again. "That you're my son."

That was all it took for Peter to break down all over again, hugging Tony like his life depended on it. 

When Peter was finally able to calm down and tell himself that this wasn't a dream, he let go and smiled. "I sh-should probably stop crying," he said with a breathless laugh.

Tony smiled. "It's all good, bud."

"This isn't another dream?" Peter whispered, the sentence escaping before he could stop it.

If it was, he never wanted to wake up.

Tony's expression softened. "Another?" Peter hung his head sheepishly and more tears trailed down his cheeks. "Oh, Peter." Tony lifted Peter's chin with a gentle hand. "I promise you, this is no dream." He brushed his thumb across the teenager's cheekbone. "This is real."

"Thank god," Peter choked out, collapsing against Tony again. 

 -

That night, while Tony was lying awake in bed, unable to get to sleep after the day he just had, he heard a small voice from his doorway. "Tony?"

He rolled over. "Yup?"

"I-I had a nightmare," Peter said, kicking at the floor.

"Come here," Tony said, giving the kid a smile so he knew that this didn't bother him.

He watched Peter cross the room and crawl under the covers. 

"Tony? C-can you promise me something?"

"What is it?" Tony asked gently, turning to face Peter.

"Can you promise me that you're not going to . . . leave me?"

Tony smiled sadly and reached over to place a hand on Peter's cheek. "Bud, I wish I could promise that."

Peter's eyes filled. "Bad things happen . . . to people close to me."

Tony could feel his heart breaking. "Peter . . ."

"It's true," Peter whispered, one tear spilling over and rolling over Tony's hand. "It's already happened to my mom, my dad, Uncle Ben, Aunt- Aunt May, and now Ned and it's only a matter of time before it gets to MJ and then to you and-"

"Peter," Tony said in almost a whisper, wiping away the new tears that went down Peter's face with his thumb. 

"I'm a f-fucking  _plague,_ Tony," Peter cried. 

Peter started to sob. "C'mere," Tony said softly, taking Peter into his chest. 

"This is what happens," Peter sobbed, "when people get close to me. They get hurt and they die."

Tony shushed him gently, completely out of something to say.

"I- I can't lose anyone else, I  _can't_."

Tony wanted to cry himself.

Instead he pulled Peter in closer if that was even possible. "Is that what you dreamed about?"

Peter nodded and another wave of tears emerged as he buried his face deeper in Tony's chest. "I can't do it, Tony. I physically can't."

"Peter-"

"Don't try to pretend it's not true because you know it is! There's going to come a day when I can't hear your voice or feel your arms around me and it's  _going to come._ It's going to happen to MJ and then I'm going to be alone all  _over again._ "

Tony's eyes burned and his heart shattered for this kid, who had been through so much, seen so much death, lost so many people. And yet, he still managed to smile and laugh and at least try to be happy. He just lost his aunt sixty days ago and almost lost his best friend so recently. 

"Peter, just know that you're stuck with me, and that won't change," Tony said softly. "There's no way that's ever going to change."

"You don't know that," Peter whispered, the sentence coming out strangled. "You can't promise me that. You just said so yourself."

The burning behind Tony's eyes only increased. 

Because what was he supposed to say to that?

So he didn't, and just tightened his grip.

"I want to tell you that I love you," Peter said and Tony froze. "But if I do . . . something is going to happen to you."

"Bud," Tony said softly. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

_I want to tell you that I love you._

"I love you, kiddo," Tony whispered. 

Peter let out a sob and Tony tightened his grip even more if that was possible. "I-I love you, too."

 _God,_ Tony thought.  _How could I have ever though this would be temporary?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELL YES. I CRIED. 
> 
> Poor Peter. Why am I doing this to him?
> 
> Did ya like it?


	16. I Wish Upon Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it! I hope you guys enjoy <3

Peter woke up still enveloped in Tony's arms and continued to relish the comfort after the insane emotional rollercoaster of the previous day. 

Tony was adopting him.

And Peter wasn't sure if he'd ever been more relieved about anything in his life. 

"Mornin', kiddo," Tony said sleepily, tapping Peter's arm twice. 

"Hi," Peter mumbled.

"Feeling any better after last night?"

"Yeah," Peter whispered.

"Kid, what you said last night-"

"Don't," Peter whispered, cutting Tony off. He clutched the man's arms tighter. "I- I don't want to talk about all that."

"Pete, you need to hear this," Tony said gently. "Just because things do happen to people doesn't mean you caused it. You've done nothing wrong, and I can tell you that you've only kept me alive, not pushed me to my death, these past two months."

Peter nodded and blinked back tears desperately because he didn't want to cry  _again._ "Okay," he just whispered.

"Okay," Tony said and even though Peter couldn't see his face, he could tell he was smiling. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," Peter said. "Thank you for wanting to, um, keep me."

Tony rubbed Peter's shoulder. "Yeah, of course."

They laid there for a while before Peter spoke up. "Hey, Tony?"

"Yup?"

"Do you think I could go visit May's grave today?"

"Yeah, sure," Tony said. "Just don't hurt yourself."

"I know," Peter said softly. "Thanks. Not just for that. F-for everything."

"Of course," Tony said. "Anything." He patted Peter's shoulder. "I'll drive you later today. Right now, I have to go eat something or else my insides will implode."

"And we wouldn't want that," Peter said with a small laugh, lifting himself so Tony could remove his arm and get out of the bed. 

 

St. John Cemetery was a humble little joint with green grass year round, but that didn't do anything to ease Peter's nerves as he trudged through to find May's grave. Tony walked steadily beside him the whole way through until Peter laid eyes on May's grave and tears immediately sprung into them.

"I'll give you a minute," Tony said gently, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder before walking towards the car. 

Peter waited for a minute before slowly dropping to his knees. "H-hey, May," he whispered. "It's been a while."

He shuffled closer so he was close enough to touch the grave. "So, I've been living with Tony for the last two months, and he's adopting me. I know you weren't really his biggest fan, but he's great. He's . . . he's helped me so much." Peter reached out and laid his hand on the edge of the tombstone, hands shaking, tears pooling. 

Peter's face scrunched up as tears spilled from his eyes. "I miss you so much. I- I didn't think I could live without you, and sometimes I still think that. I- I still remember what we last laughed about and- and I remember what your perfume smelled like. And it still sometimes doesn't compute that you're really gone, and that I'll never get to hug you again or laugh with you again."

A sob escaped and Peter hung his head. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry."

Peter let himself sob for a minute before finding the courage to lift his head. "Ned got shot," he whispered. "But he's okay. It- it wasn't like Ben and he's going to fully recover. But when I went to the hospital . . . I was scared out of my mind because all I could think was  _it's happening again._ " 

Peter's trembling hands went into his backpack and he pulled out the frame that contained the photo of the both of them, Peter and May, smiling. "Do you remember this? At that Thai restaurant? That was fun. I- I remember all of that." He gently placed the frame in front of the tombstone and brushed off the top edge. "I'm trying to move on. And- and it's hard. I still wake up crying or freak out."

"But I know that you'd want me to move on," Peter whispered. "B-because you knew that living a life of sadness isn't going to do anyone any good." He pressed his forehead against the stone. "And even though it's _so hard,_ I'm trying.

"I love you so much."

He didn't stop crying, and even as he felt a familiar pair of arms encircling him, drawing him into a hug, he still didn't stop and wept against Tony's chest while he held him.

"It's okay," Tony said gently.

Peter choked on a sob and sank further into the embrace, trying to calm down but didn't seem to have that capability. "I'm s-sorry," Peter sputtered.

"It's alright," Tony said. "You're dealing with a lot. Just let it out."

Peter nodded and continued to cry against Tony. 

After a long period of time, when the sobs faded into snivels, Peter removed his face from Tony's chest and looked up at his father-figure, who held a concerned expression. Tony slipped his sleeve over his hand and wiped Peter's cheeks dry. 

"You want to leave now?" Tony asked gently.

Peter nodded. "Y-yeah. Thanks."

Tony nodded and hauled Peter to his feet, keeping an arm around his shoulders as they walked to the car. Peter climbed into the passenger seat and flipped down the mirror and did a double take. Around and in his eyes were red and his face was swollen and pale.

"Jeez," Peter muttered as Tony slid into the driver's side.

"Don't worry about it, bud," he said, gearing the car into ignition. "I was exactly the same visiting my parents' graves for the first time."

Even though he'd seen Tony cry once, it was still hard to imagine. But the bloodshot and sad eyes and the tenderness of that hug was something Peter wouldn't forget any time soon. 

"Except I didn't have anyone there with me," Tony added.

"What about Rhodey?"

Tony sighed. "I'm not really one to let people around me when I'm . . . sensitive, I guess. Even Rhodey." He looked over at Peter with a tiny smile. "Just you and Pepper so far."

Peter smiled a little. "I'm honoured."

"It will get better, what you're dealing with," Tony assured. "Remember what I told you at the funeral?"

"Yeah," Peter said quietly. "The hurt . . . it doesn't go away, but it does get better."

"Uh huh," Tony said. "I can speak from personal experience."

Peter nodded and looked out the window. "It does feel a little better after all that."

"That's good," Tony said. "I'm glad you're healing."

Peter smiled for real. "Yeah, me too."

 

When they got home, Peter made a beeline past everyone, who gave him confused expressions, and went to his room.

This throat burned as he quietly closed his door and laid down on his bed, curled up on his side.

It was only a minute before there were two soft knocks on his door. "Peter?"

That wasn't Tony voice.

Peter sat up. "Yeah?"

"Can we come in?"

_We?_

"Um, o-okay," Peter sputtered and the door opened.

The whole team filed in, and Peter watched them, confused. Steve knelt in front of him, and immediately took in Peter's still bloodshot eyes and his expression softened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Peter murmured, hanging his head to hide his face. 

"We've all been there," Steve said gently, carefully touching Peter's arm. 

"I know," Peter whispered, fighting tears intensely. 

"And we're here to tell you that you're not alone," Natasha said from her position leaning against the wall. "What it is you're dealing with is not foreign to us."

Peter nodded and bit his lip, trying all too hard to not let any tears be released. 

"I had a really rough night last night," Wanda said softly, "about my brother."

"Yeah," Clint said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "We all do."

Peter felt like he should say something, but couldn't string together a sentence.

Steve tapped his arm twice. "It's going to be alright, I promise."

Peter slammed his hand over his eyes the moment he felt tears escaping, because crying in front of Captain freaking America was not something he wanted to do. Then two strong arms were wrapping around him, and Peter's face was quickly buried in Steve's chest.

Then there was someone hugging him from behind, and then he soon found himself in the middle of a group hug.

He felt extremely  _safe_ in this embrace, with the Avengers huddled around him, protecting him with their arms. He melted further into Steve, because unsurprisingly, he gave fantastic hugs with his huge size. 

"Everything is going to be okay," Steve whispered and Peter's throat burned even more. He was not going to start crying into Captain America's chest in front of everyone.

Instead he just nodded and sank further into the hug.

Peter wasn't sure how long they spent in that position, hugging, but it was a long time. 

When Peter finally pulled away, he smiled at everyone. "Thanks, guys."

Clint patted his shoulder with a smile. "Sure, kid."

"So, um," Peter said awkwardly, dropping back onto his bed. "How's your day goin'?"

 -

After watching Peter's training session with Nat and Steve, Peter and Tony walked down to the lab.

In about twenty minutes, Peter brought it up.

"You remember how I said last night that I can't lose anyone else?"

Tony nearly sighed. That sentence last night nearly tore his heart to pieces. "Yep."

"I was thinking." Peter sighed and put down the volt he was fiddling with. "A lot of other people probably feel the same way, because I'm definitely not the only one who has lost a lot of people I care about."

"You're not," Tony agreed, and his stomach constricted when he realized where this was going.

"So I was thinking . . . can I go out as Spider-Man tonight?"

_Yup, there it is._

Tony nearly dropped the piece of metal in his hands and a thousand horrible images went through his head.  _Peter dying. Peter bleeding out. Peter getting taken._ "Kid . . ."

"It's been months," Peter said softly. "I want to keep helping people, if I can't seem to be able to help myself."

And with that, Tony's heart broke.

"And from what I've come to realize . . . if you can't help yourself, help others."

Peter sounded so much like Tony at that moment that Tony felt the backs of his eyes burning.

Because that same exact thought went through his head after Afghanistan, when he was at an extremely low, horrible point. When he became Iron Man to help people, since he couldn't help himself, no matter how hard he tried.

"The city needs Spider-Man," Peter continued in the same soft voice. "And . . . and so do I."

The kid definitely needed Spider-Man, his second skin.

"I just . . ." Tony stopped to run a hand down his face. "If anything happens to you . . ."  _It would be my fault._

Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tony in an extremely gentle hug. "It won't. I'll be okay."

_You say that._

_But sometimes that doesn't happen._

Tony hugged him back. "Do you promise to shoot me a text sometime to let me know you're okay?"  _If I don't know you're okay, it's my fault._

"Yes."

"And not get involved with something you can't handle?"  _Like the Vulture. Which was my fault._

"Yes."

_If anything happens to you, it's my fault._

"Just . . . just be careful," Tony said with a sigh.

"So I can go?" Peter asked, looking up with wide-eyes.

"Yeah, go ahead, young buck."

Peter beamed and hugged Tony tighter. "Thank you! Thank you! I love you!"

"Love you too," Tony said, patting Peter's back. "Just at least let me come into your room."

"Yep, that's okay," Peter said instantly, breaking away with a huge smile on his face that was unbelievably contagious.

 

_Dear fucking god, why did I ever think temporary was going to stick?_

-

Peter soon found himself standing in front of the full length mirror, enveloped in the red and blue spandex.

"You look great, spiderling," Tony said, tapping the back of Peter's shoulder.

Peter smiled embarrassingly big.

"Just make sure you send me a text," Tony said, eyeing the phone in Peter's little pouches. "And just . . . you know . . ." He trailed off, the end of the message clear:  _don't die,_  and opened his arms. "Come here."

Peter fell into Tony's arms and closed his eyes in this super-awesome hug, melting into the comfort and affection. Tony held Peter to his chest with an arm around his back and his other hand against the back of his head.

Peter suddenly felt like crying.

"Just be safe, kiddo," Tony said quietly, rubbing Peter's back.

"I know," Peter said. "I will."

Tony gently pushed Peter away from the hug and gave him an almost watery smile. "Have fun."

Peter smiled and pulled on the mask. "You ready, Spider-Man?" Peter whispered, looking into the black and white eyes through the full length mirror.

Then he opened the window. The cool breeze hit, and Peter looked out over the city, the bright lights and skyscrapers.

"For May," he whispered.

And he flew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it. That's It Might Have Been. The song I was using as the lyrics is called "To Where You Are" by Josh Groban and it's about someone who's dead, and I thought it would be absolutely perfect for this story.
> 
> Thanks for all your love and support.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3333

**Author's Note:**

> I got an Instagram! @parker_at_heart lol so you should follow me ;)


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